


in the summer's haze (our halcyon days)

by txrches



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Asexual Character, F/F, Femslash, Sexuality, Summer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-26
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-07-18 10:20:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 41,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7311031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/txrches/pseuds/txrches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have changed since last summer.</p>
<p>For starters, Raven returns to camp with a limp and an attitude adjustment, Octavia can't bear to be in the same room as her best friend, and Clarke and Costia are left to pick up the pieces.</p>
<p>Not to mention, when a stranger stumbles from the woods, wide eyed and out of breath, things start to get even more interesting. </p>
<p>or</p>
<p>A Summer Camp AU in which Raven and Octavia are best friends with feelings™, Lexa's a runaway with a unique past, Clarke longs to figure her out, and Costia just wants to play baseball.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> eep i'm so excited for this. this is scau, aka the summer camp fic i've been planning forever. this chapter is a lot of revisiting their pasts and whatnot, and setting up the conflict that's to come. but yes! i love the "aesthetic" of this fic, if that makes sense. lots of happy summery nostalgic things. 
> 
> let me know what you think!! enjoy.
> 
> (txrches on tumblr)

Octavia toys with the knob on the radio, trying to balance the dial in just the right position so they can listen to  _ something _ besides static. The heat is driving her insane. She’s been in this stupid truck for way too long, against her will, and it’s times like these that she wishes her brother’s car had working air conditioning. Sweat beads at her forehead and she’s tugged her hair back into a high ponytail to try and cool herself off, rolling up the sleeves of her t-shirt, but it’s done little to alleviate the unbearable humidity that’s swept over the day like a blanket, making it hard to breathe. A frustrated grunt leaves her mouth when the static blaring through the speakers only grows louder, and she slumps back into the passenger seat, kicking off the radio with the heel of her bare foot. The truck becomes enveloped in silence, the only thing heard being the gravel crunching underneath their tires.

It’s the first day of summer--the same day she and Bellamy make the four hour drive to Camp Alice, their home away from home for the next three months. And if there’s anything she’s learned in her seventeen years on earth, it’s that  _ a lot _ can happen in three months. Both good and bad. Usually, Octavia’s so excited that her bags are already packed weeks in advance, sitting in the doorway of her bedroom as a constant reminder of better things to come. But this summer, it’s different. This summer, something looms over her head like a dark cloud. And instead of counting down the minutes until they arrive, she finds herself dreading the moment they pass under the symbolic wooden archway.

Bellamy’s old pickup bounces unceremoniously down the narrow gravel roads, jostling them from side to side until Octavia’s forced to steady herself with both palms pressed against the dashboard. They rumble past the weathered sign that reads “Camp Alice,” and Bellamy reaches over to nudge her shoulder, trying to stir some excitement from her. But Octavia just glares at her older sibling, somewhat jealous that he’s spared from any grievances about returning to camp. 

“Quit it,” she mutters, crossing her arms and scooting away from him. Her bare shoulder presses against the burning hot glass of the window. “I told mom I didn’t want to go.”

“Oh  _ come on, _ O,” Bellamy sighs, his fingers curling and uncurling around the steering wheel. “We’ve come here every summer for  _ nine years _ . You’re really going to let some stupid little fight ruin that for you?”

“It wasn’t some  _ ‘stupid little fight,’ _ ” Octavia’s jaw clenches just thinking about it. “You wouldn’t know.” Now that Bellamy has a vague idea about what’s causing her hesitation, he seems to believe he can solve it. But to Octavia, he only knows one line in a novel of happenings that have filled her with a slew of negative emotions. 

“For god sakes, Octavia, just make  _ new _ friends. It’s not that hard,” Bellamy rolls his eyes at his younger sister’s stubbornness, something that’s only grown over the years. “All you have to do is avoid Raven.”

Pretending the mere mention of her name doesn’t make her stomach churn, Octavia huffs and leans further against the window, ignoring the heat pressed against her skin. There’s not many places to hide in a car, to her disappointment. “I have friends,” she mumbles to no one in particular. “Costia and Clarke are my friends. It’s just… they’re friends with  _ her _ too.” She can’t bring herself to even speak her name. Letting the two syllables, five letters roll off of her tongue would be admitting defeat.

“Case in point, O,” Bellamy glances over to her. “Make  _ new _ friends. Friends that aren’t them.”

“You don’t understand,” she crosses her arms even tighter, her teeth grinding in the back of her mouth. “I don’t want  _ ‘new friends.’ _ I just want things to go back to the way they were before.”

Sighing heavily, Bellamy just shakes his head and holds up both hands in surrender. He should know by now that trying to help Octavia only results in her distancing herself. “Whatever, Octavia. There’s no point in arguing with you if you refuse to take any of my advice.”

“I never  _ asked _ for your advice,” she mutters, cheek pressed against the window as her eyes skate back and forth across the ground that whizzes past them. She sees her brother pinch the bridge of his nose through the side mirror. She’s never been easy to deal with, she supposes.

“So you’re just going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself?” He speaks up a few moments later. Octavia’s lips curve into a scowl. 

“Precisely.”

Leaning against the door of the car, forehead resting against the hot window, Octavia remains silent as they ascend the steep slope into camp, Bellamy’s tires churning against the uneven ground. Her eyes glaze over the black and white “Camp Alice” sign, covered in colorful handprints--the same one she remembers watching Mr. Griffin nail to the gate during her second summer there. She’s sure one of paint-covered handprints is hers--probably green or blue. Her favorite color used to change every summer. 

In fact, as the car slowly rolls to a stop, everything around her seems to have a memory attached to it; be it the benches they painted the year before, the stack of inner tubes in front of the dock house, or the two person swing hanging from the large oak tree. She’s been coming here for so long that she has a story about every one of these things, no matter how small and insignificant they may seem.

But god, all of these memories have a name attached to them, too.

It’s only then that it really hits Octavia, practically knocking the wind out of her. Sure, she’s thought about it all summer, driving herself insane with worry. But now, being back here for the first time, revisiting all the past memories, she realizes she’ll actually have to face Raven. 

It never used to be like this, granted. In fact, it was quite the opposite. If this had been any other summer, she would already have leapt out of the moving car and sprinted off to find the dark-haired girl. But this summer is different. All because of the events of the summer prior. 

Octavia hadn’t planned for it to happen, she swears. She hadn’t planned on sleeping with her best friend. But god, it had happened, and it spurred the fight that caused Raven to avoid her for the entire last day of camp, not even bothering to say goodbye. The same fight that shook Octavia so deeply that she wasn’t herself for weeks afterwards. Even now, she’s still riddled by the thought of having to face her again.

For as long as she can remember, Octavia and Raven have been inseparable. Two peas in a pod, the two musketeers, partners in crime… she’s heard it all. She used to say they were like long lost sisters, although that’s probably not the best analogy given the things that have happened between them since then. 

Octavia first came to Camp Alice when she was eight, grumpily following in her older brother’s footsteps, her Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles backpack dragging haphazardly behind her. The idea of spending an entire summer away from her mother was frightening, and she channeled all of her nervous energy into making camp miserable for everyone else around her. After purposely letting a toad loose in the girl’s bunk and feeding her mashed potatoes to the resident cat, she earned herself the title of the “weird kid” and effectively became the social outcast. So while all the other girls painted their nails and tie-dyed t-shirts, leaving Octavia uninvited, she would sneak off on her own, find a perch high up a tree, and revel in her own company.

However, while she became invisible to the rest of the campers, Octavia somehow managed to catch the attention of Raven. Raven, who at the time, held the record for the fastest lap swam around the lake--among the entire camp, even the high schoolers. Raven, who taught all the other girls how to braid their hair. Everyone knew her. Dubbed ‘tadpole’ by the staff, Raven had made a name for herself during the first summer of camp without even trying--the little rocket with a missing tooth and French braided pigtails. And while she could have easily befriended anyone else, she had her sights set on Octavia--the only camper who  _ didn’t _ bother to pay her any attention. To this day, Octavia’s still not sure what had caused Raven to single her out from the rest.

When Raven had first started following her around, drowning her in a million different questions about nothing in particular, Octavia wanted nothing to do with her. She’d climb as far up as she could in the trees, but Raven wouldn’t let that stop her. She’d just scramble up after her, even though she would later confess to being afraid of heights. And over time, thanks to Raven’s persistence, she somehow managed to worm her way into Octavia’s company. Soon enough, Octavia was allowing herself to be dragged around camp by an always-energetic Raven, who insisted on teaching her everything she knew. 

In fact, it was Raven who first convinced Octavia to jump into the lake, showing her how to dive under the docks and come up for air in a small outcove tucked beneath them--a hiding spot that would quickly become their favorite escape. It was Raven who traded the last of her gummy bears so that Octavia could switch to the bunk beneath her own. In the same breath, it was also Raven who would get them in trouble for hanging upside down from the top bunk and making silly faces at each other in the middle of the night, their muffled laughter echoing around the entire cabin. And soon, it was  _ Octavia _ who found herself as Raven’s sidekick, a loyal accomplice who was no longer seen as an outcast. Raven was the only one who could push Octavia out of her comfort zone, and eventually, even the other campers were forced to accept her as one of their own. 

At nine years old, when Octavia returned for her second summer at camp, she’d managed to convince herself that Raven wouldn’t remember her. That’s just how it worked--even Bellamy had a new group of friends every summer. But that belief was squashed the moment she stepped into her cabin and was tackled into a hug by Raven--who’d already saved her a bunk directly below her own. And sometime during that same summer, Raven began referring to Octavia as her best friend--a title they both took with the utmost seriousness. Soon, it was apparent that the two were each other’s missing halves. And even after being separated for an entire school year, Octavia was shocked when Raven still remembered the tiniest details about her--like how she hated to have her food touching on her plate, or how she could wiggle her ears and her nose at the same time. For Octavia, who didn’t have many friends back home, being at camp with Raven became the highlight of her year. Around Raven, her confidence skyrocketed. She was a different person--a better version of herself.

From then on out, it had been Octavia and Raven against the world. With Raven as the ringleader and Octavia as her shadow, there was always fun to be had, adventures to embark on, or trouble to be caused. The staff knew them by name. And every summer, they would pick up right where they left off, the nine months spent apart having no impact on their friendship.

When they were ten years old, they colored their hair with kool aid and cut their own bangs with safety scissors--with Raven giggling at Octavia to stay still while dark black hairs littered the bathroom sink. At twelve years old, Raven convinced Octavia to climb the tallest tree in camp--which resulted in a sprained ankle and a teary eyed Raven, who stole an entire tub of ice cream and sat with Octavia in her bunk for the rest of the week, voluntarily missing out on the annual hiking trip. 

And when they were fifteen, Octavia was hit with a sudden realization, as abrupt as a summer rainstorm. The moment Raven showed up that year, sporting a new haircut and toned arms from hours of swimming and volleyball practice, innocent little Octavia found herself with a newfound attraction to her best friend. One that Raven was seemingly oblivious to. 

But, summer seemed to carry on as normal for the most part. Octavia pushed her feelings to the back of her mind, dismissing them with any excuse she could muster. A new camper--Costia--befriended the two of them after she was caught engraving bad words into the benches of the mess hall. And while it was still Octavia and Raven against the world, Costia was quick to become a recurring role in their cast of characters.

It was Costia, in fact, that showed up the following summer toting a nose ring--one she had done herself after watching her sister’s best friend attempt it. That same night, using a needle and an ice cube, she did the same for Raven, bending an old earring into a hoop. Octavia, being the more modest of the three, opted for just watching from the safety of her bunk, but she wasn’t exempt from the punishment that had all three of them cleaning up after meals while the other campers swam in the lake. 

That same summer, Raven convinced Octavia to steal Bellamy’s keys from his bunk, prompting a midnight joyride to the grocery story to load up on a list of ingredients. The following day, after the stink bomb was extracted from the boy’s cabin, they hid giggling in the woods, clutching their stomachs and gasping for breath.

But things changed on the summer they turned sixteen. It started out normally, besides Octavia’s growing struggle to maintain the fine line between friends and…  _ something else _ . It didn’t help that Raven was practically oblivious, and even the simplest actions--grabbing her wrist, resting her head in her lap, stealing her hoodies--would make Octavia sink further and further into her pit of repression. ‘ _ I can’t have feelings for my best friend’ _ eventually turned into ‘ _ Alright, I have feelings, but I mustn't dare to act on them.’  _

That was the same summer that Costia kissed her under the docks, taking Octavia completely off guard. However, being Costia, they were both cracking up seconds later after she had proclaimed, “What’s so damn special about that?”

Seemingly out of nowhere, things changed when Costia stumbled upon something on one of her morning jogs. Dragging Raven and Octavia through the woods, she introduced them to what soon would be known as the caboose--an abandoned train car nestled deep in the wilderness. Word spread through the camp, and soon the caboose developed a reputation amongst the older campers--one that held true the night Octavia and Raven found themselves standing outside of it.

It had been their last full night at camp, and the staff were throwing their annual end-of-summer bonfire, complete with hamburgers, hot dogs, fireworks, and s’mores. However, unbeknownst to the staff, Murphy had somehow gotten his hands on enough alcohol to make wine coolers, passing them around to a select few--Raven included.

Octavia hadn’t caught on at first, considering Raven’s always been naturally giggly. And even when Raven proposed they ditch the bonfire, Octavia didn’t suspect a thing. In the same fashion they’ve traveled since they were kids, Octavia found herself being tugged out of the crowd by Raven--fingers tight around her wrist.

And even though all the signs were there, it didn’t truly hit Octavia until Raven had her pressed up against the side of the train car, tongue dancing against her own and hands tugging impatiently at the bottom of her tank top. It was only then that Octavia smelled the alcohol on her breath, tasted the pineapple juice on her lips. And despite this being a moment only present in her wildest dreams, she had somehow mustered up the willpower to push them apart, the jagged siding of the train car digging into her shoulderblades.

“What?” Raven had breathed out, a smirk tugging at her lips. “What are you so afraid of?”

Octavia had tried, she really had. But god, she was a different kind of drunk, one that required no alcohol. And with Raven’s hands all over her, her teasing smile posing a silent challenge, it was only a matter of time. The moment Raven had laid her back on the rough floor of the car and straddled her waist, the battle of wills was lost. Octavia’s brain was static. Raven had mumbled a sloppy “quit worrying” so many times that all consequences began to slip from her mind. 

Plus, it was Raven. The same Raven she’d known for years. Octavia was no match for her--the girl she’d blindly follow into a battlefield. She’d take a bullet for her, even if Raven was the one pulling the trigger. Octavia couldn’t pinpoint the exact time when her feelings had grown into this… this  _ monster _ , but god, Raven was something different, and it was becoming harder and harder for Octavia to deny it.

The panic had only set in after Raven rolled from atop her and fell asleep. The reality of what they’d done crashed over Octavia like a wave, sending her scrambling to collect her clothes that were strewn across the floor. However, after she’d gotten dressed, she didn’t have the heart to leave. She wound up falling asleep leaning against the wall, leaving an unusual amount of space between them.

On the other hand, Raven didn’t seem to have any problem with leaving, because she was gone by the time Octavia woke up.

It probably wasn’t the best decision, but Octavia had panicked, sprinting back into camp in search of Raven. She was overreacting, she told herself. Friends do stuff like that all the time and it doesn’t mean anything. Nothing had changed between her and Costia after their childish kiss under the docks. This was no different, right?

Wrong. The moment Octavia had burst into their bunks to find Raven’s things already gone, nothing but a bare mattress in her place, there was an unsettling feeling in her stomach. And sure enough, after she’d caught up with Raven further up the pathway, their most intense argument ensued--a screaming match that ending in Raven rolling her eyes and storming off, and Octavia fighting back tears as she blindly threw her belongings together, refusing to speak a word on the entire ride home. 

That day is now only a blur in her mind. Although Raven’s words Octavia will never forget --  _ “Stop making into something it wasn’t, Octavia. For fucks sake, if I knew you’d be this clingy I wouldn’t have let you touch me in the first place.” _

Her words had been sharp, laced with venom that hit Octavia in waves. But she hadn’t been entirely innocent, either. Especially after realizing Raven drunkenly believed that  _ Octavia _ had been the initiator. When she tried to convince her otherwise, however, Raven grew even more defensive. Their screaming practically woke up half the camp, accompanied by the squeal of Raven’s tires as she disappeared down the gravel pathway, no goodbyes exchanged.

However, no one knows what had happened between them. None of the campers are aware, not even Clarke or Costia, Octavia’s closest friends. No one is expecting things to be any different, which Octavia already knows will make this even more interesting.

“Blake!” a familiar voice rings out the moment she trudges out of Bellamy’s car. She’s snapped out of her thoughts, looking up to find Clarke jogging towards the truck, her blonde ponytail bobbing up and down behind her. 

Clarke’s been coming to camp for even longer than she has. In fact, she’s been there way longer than any of the other campers have, considering her father is the one who built it. Camp Alice--after Alice Griffin, her late mother. At seven years old, Clarke had waited anxiously for her mom to return home from the hospital with a new addition to the family. However, when it was only her father who came back late that night, funeral arrangements were made for both her mother and her infant brother.

You’d never know just by looking at Clarke, though. Similar to Raven, she’s a natural born leader. From a young age she’d taken charge. It’s her camp, after all. And now, because it’s their senior summer, the year before they all ship off to college, she’s head of the first girl’s cabin. The Blue Orchids--named after her favorite song by The White Stripes. 

“I believe this is yours,” Clarke tosses her a black balled up t-shirt. Octavia holds it up, her eyes scanning her last name and birth year in white lettering on the back. “You’re head of girl’s dorm 2,” Clarke nods, marking something on the clipboard in her hands. “Black Dahlias, right?”

Octavia freezes, remembering how she and Raven had picked their cabin name the summer prior, after Octavia’s favorite murder mystery. Costia had been hesitant at first, but the prospect of black t-shirts had swayed her. Clarke, on the other hand, is in a dark blue t-shirt, counterpart to Octavia’s.

“I’m not the head,” Octavia stumbles over her words, balling up the t-shirt in her hands. Raven’s the leader of their cabin. That’s how it’s always been. Clarke should know that.

“Listen, it’s what they have you marked as,” Clarke taps her pen against the clipboard. “Just get Rae to take it up with one of the staff.”

Octavia thanks god for her unbreakable poker face, because she’s quick to nod and mumble a “will do.” She hurries away as soon as she can, yanking her bags from the back of the truck and leaving Clarke to move over and greet Bellamy. 

The moment Octavia steps into her cabin, feeling the familiar rough wood against her bare feet, she’s tackled into a hug that knocks her duffel bag out of her hands and makes her stumble backwards. It doesn’t take long for her to smell the telltale men’s cologne and realize exactly who it is.

“You’re late, you asshole,” Costia backs up and punches her shoulder. She gives the girl a wide smile, but Octavia doesn’t miss the way she glances behind her, expecting Raven to follow. Octavia can’t blame her, but she’s thankful Costia’s smart enough not to bring it up. 

For as long as Octavia’s known Costia, the girl has been the definition of a tomboy; probably due to growing up with three older brothers and being forced to hold her own from a young age. But she’s naturally gorgeous--dark hair and fair skin with faint freckles around her nose--even when her hair is tugged into a messy ponytail and thrown under a baseball cap--like it is now.

Realistically speaking, it was Raven and Costia who should have been best friends. They’re both outgoing, social, daredevils without a cause. But Costia’s never minded being the third wheel when it comes to Octavia and Raven. Besides, like Raven, she’s friends with almost everyone at the camp. She’s the only girl who’s managed to weasel her way onto the guys’ baseball team after breaking Bellamy’s nose with an  _ insane _ pitch when he told her that she played like a girl. Even now, none of the guys go easy on her. She’s proved herself as one of the best players at camp, regardless of gender.

“I saved you and Raven bunks,” Costia grabs her bag and tosses it on one of the bottom mattresses before Octavia can argue. She knows better than to say anything, either. So she just remains quiet in fear of raising suspicions. 

Before she has a chance to breathe, Octavia finds herself being pulled behind Costia, who insists on going around to greet  _ everyone.  _ Octavia’s changed into her bunk shirt, and can’t help but be distracted. She’s keeping an eye out for another familiar face. She’s expecting to bump in Raven at any moment, dreading how forced and awkward their interaction will have to be. 

“Hey, princess,” Bellamy chuckles when Costia greets him, pulling her into a one-armed hug and swiping her baseball cap with the other hand. Unlike Raven, Costia’s become that of a younger sister to Bellamy. While Bellamy admires Costia for her athletic skills, he and Raven have always seemed to clash. Octavia knows he’s secretly happy about she and Raven’s fallout--he’s always believed that Raven was a bad influence on his younger sister.

“Call me princess and I’ll have to break your nose again, Blake,” Costia punches his shoulder and deftly steals her hat back, winking at him mockingly. Bellamy sends Octavia a questioning look over her shoulder--silently asking if she’s doing okay--but she ignores him, looking down and pretending she hasn’t seen.

Octavia’s not sure where Raven is, but she somehow manages to avoid her for the rest of the afternoon. It’s only when they’re packed into the mess hall, passing around pitchers of ice water and lemonade, that she finally gets to breathe. Maybe Raven isn’t here. Maybe she isn’t even coming this summer. For some reason, the thought makes her feel even worse.

She’s sitting on a bench next to Costia, with Clarke across from them, squished in with a few other girls from their cabins. For a while, Octavia’s able to calm down. She keeps quiet, though, just soaking in everyone else’s conversation. She picks half-heartedly at her food. If she’s being honest, it feels empty without Raven. It’s only around Raven that Octavia’s shyness seems to ebb away. With Raven, she’s more talkative, more involved--more cheerful in general.

“So,” Costia clears her throat, a teasing smirk on her face as she leans forward across the table, strands of dark hair falling down and framing her face. “Is it gonna be a chick or a dick this summer, Griffin?”

Laughter erupts from around them as Clarke’s face turns bright red. She just glares at Costia, well aware that the girl means no harm. A middle finger is thrown between the two moments later, which only prompts Costia to steal a fry from the girl’s dinner tray.

Everyone at camp knows Clarke’s reputation. It’s almost impossible not to. Tucked in the woods just behind the boy’s cabins is a small clearing, home to the Lover’s Oak--a wide, aged tree, covered in initials carved by those who partake in summer flings. Clarke just happens to have her initials dug into the tree more times than any other campers. However, all the names paired with her own are now just memories, as fleeting as summer romances can be. 

Octavia’s one of the only campers who truly understands Clarke--who knows she isn’t desperate, promiscuous, or any of the other names whispered behind her back. Clarke just falls in love way too easily--which she had confessed to Octavia a few summers ago when her boyfriend, Finn, broke up with her on the last day of camp. From then on, Octavia’s always been the one who reminds her to guard her heart.

Due partly to Clarke’s tumultuous history with relationships, the tree’s taken on a negative connotation, with a myth spreading around that accounts all failed relationships to the act of carving your initials in the tree--like a curse. Octavia used to think it was complete bullshit, but now she’s not so sure. After all, she and Raven had carved their first and middle initials into the tree. “Friends can do it, too,” Raven had convinced her on that night, handing her a flashlight. But when Octavia pulled out her pocket knife, Raven had made her climb the tree and carve their names out of sight, on the topside of a branch away from the naked eye. They were only thirteen years old then, and now four years later, Octavia can’t help but wonder if that’s what caused their friendship to end in flames.

Conversation carries on for a while, but Octavia’s no longer paying attention. Instead, she’s absentmindedly picking at her nails, trying to plan out how she’s going to move her things from under Raven’s bunk without drawing too much attention to herself. However, when a hush falls over the room, she’s brought out of her thoughts.

“Don’t be too obvious, but look out the window behind you,” Costia whispers under her breath, her shoulder pressed up against her own. Octavia, confused, slowly follows her gaze, her heart dropping when she recognizes Raven’s red pickup. But Raven’s not driving. Time seems to slow down around them when Raven slowly slides out of the passenger seat. As she exchanges a few words with whoever’s driving, Octavia’s eyes skim down to her leg. It’s in some sort of contraption--a brace that covers most of her thigh and extends down below her knee. She pulls a crutch of some sort from the truck, tucking it under her arm. Practically everyone in the room is watching, with Raven completely unaware, but Octavia tears her eyes away from the window, unable to look any longer. It feels too much like an invasion of her privacy. 

Though when she looks back up, she quickly becomes aware that everyone’s attention has turned to her--multiple pairs of eyes now boring into her own, expecting an explanation. Her entire body freezes. But thank god for Clarke, who immediately notices her hesitation. 

“Did she mention anything in her letters?” Clarke keeps her voice low so only their table can hear. All Octavia can do is shake her head, unable to tell them that she and Raven hadn’t even written over the summer, as they had always done--novel length letters with friendship bracelets and other trinkets taped inside. Although it hadn’t stopped her from checking the mail everyday, still recklessly hopeful.

“I’m not about to sit here and gossip over this,” Costia speaks loudly, purposely making sure everyone can hear her. She glares to the campers surrounding them, intimidating enough to make all heads turn away. Pushing herself up from the table, she hurries off to the back entrance of the mess hall, presumably to find Raven. Octavia’s still in disbelief. 

Luckily, the bell that dismisses them from dinner rings only a few minutes later, and Octavia takes advantage of the opportunity to disappear. Costia has left her hat at the table and Octavia utilizes it, tugging her hair up into a ponytail and slapping the hat atop it, a disguise of some sort. 

She manages to make it to her cabin undisturbed, and thankfully no one else is inside. However, her things have now been transferred to a top bunk, and Raven’s are thrown on the mattress below. Octavia recognizes the bead keychain she’d made Raven when they were ten, still tied to the strap of her duffel bag. It should make her feel hopeful, but it just serves to clothe her in guilt. 

Also, she can’t help but grimace at the prospect of sleeping on a top bunk. She’s always slept on the bottom in fear that she’d move too much in her sleep and fall off. But she tells herself that this should be the least of her worries.

Suddenly, Costia bursts into the room, startling Octavia--who tenses, but doesn’t make a move to turn around. She feels frozen. Catching her breath, Costia eyes immediately land on her. “There you are,” she shakes her head. “Come on, there’s a bonfire.” But when Octavia doesn’t move, Costia quickly realizes what her gaze is trained on. 

“I told her to take the bottom bunk, if that’s okay,” she slides over to stand next to Octavia, the soles of her tennis shoes squeaking against the floor. “She didn’t say anything about…  _ you know _ . And I didn’t bring it up. Looks like it hurts, though. She really relies on that crutch.” Costia pauses to glance over at her, waiting for a reply but receiving nothing but silence. “I won’t ask,” she adds, catching Octavia’s attention.

“Huh?”

“About what happened between you two,” Costia nods once. “I won’t ask. You need me to play referee?”

Octavia, caught off guard, looks to her in confusion.

“You know, keep the peace between you two?” Costia motions to Raven’s bunk and then back to the girl. “Keep everyone else out of it?”

Taken off guard, all Octavia can do is nod once, which Costia knows is enough of an answer. “I know where she’s sitting,” she explains, nudging Octavia toward the door. “I’ll take you to the opposite side.”

So, instead of sitting with all the girls from her bunk, Octavia finds herself at the back end of the bonfire, practically hiding behind her brother and a group of his friends. She can’t make out much across the large fire that separates them, but she can see Costia, sitting on a rock next to Raven. She wonders if Raven’s receiving the same referee speech that she’s just gotten.

Eventually, Octavia grows restless with just sitting on her own. It’s too reminiscent of her first summer at camp. However, just as she’s managed to slip past the edge of the crowd, Clarke catches sight of her and waves her over. Octavia curses under her breath--she just so happens to be standing right next to Raven and Costia.

Swallowing nervously, Octavia jogs over, doing her best to act casual. “What’s up?” she asks, forcing herself to keep her eyes trained on Clarke, anywhere but the girl just a few steps away from her. 

“Sign,” Clarke shoves a clipboard into her hands. “Just so they know you showed up.”

Nodding feverously, Octavia hurries to scribble her signature beside her name. However, just as she moves to hand the board back to Clarke, something bursts through the woods behind them, slamming into Clarke and sending her stumbling forwards. Octavia has to grab her to keep her from falling to the ground, the weight of the impact nearly knocking them both over. Regaining her balance, Clarke opens her mouth to say something--probably a string of curse words--but she freezes when she turns around.

Standing in front of them is a girl about their age, wide eyed and out of breath. The first thing Octavia notices is that she’s barefooted, wearing a torn white nightgown that falls just above her knees. Her hair is curly, tousled and windblown around her face. She has the eyes of a baby deer--panic stricken and staring straight forward, as if she’s been caught in the headlights. To Octavia, this is something straight out of a horror movie.

Octavia and Costia exchange glances, and Octavia glances to Raven without thinking. Their eyes lock for a split second before they both whip their heads away. Clarke is the first to speak up, taking the clipboard back from Octavia and scanning it over.

“First name?” she asks, her breathing contained as she taps a pen against the board and looks up. The girl’s mouth opens and closes for a few seconds, with no words coming out. 

“Lexa,” she finally chokes out, her feet twitching nervously against the ground, as if she could run at any moment. Her fingers curl and uncurl around each other, flighty, and she struggles to keep her eyes on any of the girls before her. They keep darting toward the fire.

“Last name?” Clarke flips through the pages on the clipboard. The girl hesitates, her eyes now skating around their surroundings.

“Woods,” she manages, still catching her breath as her chest rises and falls unevenly. 

“You just run a marathon?” Someone speaks up.  _ Raven. _ Her voice sounds different… more calloused. There’s a newfound edge that makes Octavia shiver.

“I… I…”

“Weird,” Clarke interrupts the girl, sending Raven a warning glare. “There’s no Lexa Woods on here.” She flips through the pages once more to double check. Fear flickers in the girl’s eyes, but Clarke simply shrugs. “My name wasn’t on here either, it’s the the stupid computers.” She jots something down. 

“We’ll put her in your cabin, O,” Clarke nods, clicking her pen twice and turning to Octavia. “Will you show her where it is?”

Octavia jumps at the chance to get away from there--away from the tense silence between her and Raven. And before she knows it, she’s leading the girl down the dirt pathway that winds up the hill to their cabins. It’s dark, but there’s lights strung from tree to tree, reminding Octavia of telephone wires. 

“Where’s your stuff?” she asks, pausing mid-step when she realizes the girl has brought nothing with her. But as soon as their eyes meet, the girl breaks into a sprint for the woods, leaves rustling once she’s out of sight. Confused and taken off guard, Octavia is left to stand in shock for a few moments. But she’s quick to recuperate, barreling into a run after the girl once she realizes what's happened. Years of chasing after Raven have made her as agile as anything, and she catches up to Lexa quickly, her bare feet pounding against the hard earth.

“What the hell?” Octavia hisses, grabbing ahold of the girl’s arm and yanking her back to face her. Her feet skid against the ground as she slides to a stop, digging up clumps of dirt in her wake. Gasping for breath, Lexa stumbles back a few steps and holds out a hand. 

“Please don’t make me go back,” her words come out between sharp gasps for air, panic radiating off of her. Octavia’s grip on her arm loosens. She can immediately tell something is wrong. 

“Back? Back where?” Octavia looks to her in confusion. But Lexa can only shake her head, her eyes pleading with Octavia’s own. It makes Octavia shudder. She’s never witnessed this type of fear in someone before.

“Are you hurt?” She asks, suddenly finding herself growing concerned. 

“I can’t go back,” Lexa just continues to shake her head. She’s still breathing rapidly, her chest rising and falling as she tries to regain her breath. But the anxiety in her voice is what really scares Octavia.

“No one’s making you do anything,” Octavia finally lets go of her arm, holding up her hands in surrender. Lexa rubs her shoulder nervously. “Do you need a place to stay? Here?”

“I…” the girl hesitates. She swallows thickly and looks down, the slightest of nods passed between then. 

“You can borrow something of mine,” Octavia sighs, giving in. Normally, she admits, she’d never do something like this. Never in a million years. But without Raven, and with Costia’s attention divided, she’s lost. She needs an ally. And by the looks of it, this girl needs a place to stay. And a shower--judging by the leaves and twigs stuck in her hair. 

Surprisingly, Lexa seems to calm down when she realizes that Octavia isn’t going to bombard her with questions. So Octavia leads her back to the cabin, doing her best to point out their surroundings while she keeps a close eye on Lexa, not wanting her to escape again.

“Normally, I’d be concerned that you’re some serial killer here to murder me in my sleep,” Octavia speaks up, kicking her shoes off by the door of the cabin. She tugs the chain hanging from the ceiling, turning on the fan and encasing the room in the dim, yellow light that flickers every now and then. “But I don’t want to be here either, probably just as much as you, so…” she shrugs. Digging through her belongings, she tosses a change of clothes to the girl and shows her to the showers.

Later that night, when Lexa tiptoes out of the bathroom, the bunks are suddenly filled with other girls. While she was showering, Raven, Costia, and a few other campers had shown up, and Octavia had buried herself under her blankets and faked sleep. Lexa’s eyes dart around the dark room, her hands clutching the balled up towel against her chest.

“Psst.”

Lexa jumps, looking around the room. Octavia sits up slowly in her bunk. “You’re up here,” she points to the top bunk against the same wall. “I found you a pillow and stuff.” But Lexa doesn’t move.

“They’re all asleep,” Octavia adds in passing. She fishes around in her bunk until she finds her flashlight, turning it on and tracing a pathway across the floor for the girl until Lexa slowly wanders over. “That was a long shower.”

Carefully, Lexa climbs up the bunk, making sure not to wake the girl on the bottom. She sits cross legged at the top, facing Octavia. “Sorry,” she whispers, looking down at her hands.

“No biggie,” Octavia shrugs and rolls onto her stomach, propping herself up on her elbows. “You looked like you needed one--no offense.” She pauses, glancing over to the bag at the foot of her bed. “You hungry?” The way Lexa perks up is enough of an answer, and moments later Octavia’s passing her a bag of pretzels.

“What’s your name?” Lexa asks softly after a few moments of silence. Octavia lifts her head. 

“Octavia,” she sits up, beginning to point out everyone in the room. “That’s Fox, Harper, Costia, and…” she pauses, hanging her head down to glance at the bunk beneath hers. She lowers her voice when she looks back up. “And Raven.”

“Lexa,” the girl swallows, still a bit nervous. “Just Lexa.”

“Well, _Just Lexa,_ welcome to Camp Alice,” Octavia yawns and rolls onto her back, clicking off the flashlight. The room becomes encased in darkness. “Breakfast is at 8:30 sharp.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lexa has no clue where she is.

Her legs ache. She’d ran for god knows how long last night, and there’s a huge scrape up her side from where her nightgown had snagged itself on a branch. And even though she’d taken a freezing cold shower, she still feels disgusting. 

When she wakes up, it’s to the sound of the other girls moving around and getting dressed. The nice girl from the night before--Octavia--subtly passes her a change of clothes. Lexa wants to ask her a number of questions about this place, but the girl seems to be in a rush to leave. Lexa tries to remind herself that she’s on her own. She can't trust anyone. When she makes her way to the bathroom to get dressed, she can feel everyone’s eyes on her. She keeps her head low. 

After she locks herself in a stall to get changed, something small slides underneath the door, skidding to a stop right by her feet. She freezes.

“O said you might need this,” an unfamiliar voice appears. “The name’s Costia, by the way. I’m the one with a baseball glove if you need anything.”

Lexa can’t even stutter a thank you--but she does bend down to pick up the toothbrush, brand new and wrapped in plastic. She holds her breath until she hears Costia’s footsteps disappear from the bathroom. And eventually, once she’s sure everyone has left the cabin, she makes her way out of the stall.

With a toothbrush hanging from her mouth, she yanks her hair up into a bun and scowls at her reflection. In her head, she begins running over her options. She can’t hide here forever. She doesn’t know these people. And who knows how far she’s actually traveled since last night. For all she knows, she could have been running in circles. So her mind is made up fairly easily--she needs to keep going.

Leaving the clothes Octavia had lent her the night before on the girl’s bunk, folded neatly, Lexa finally steps out into the daylight. Her goal is to get back into the thick of the woods, which is exactly what she heads for. However, something interrupts her before she can.

“Hey!” A voice calls out from behind her, making her flinch and freeze in place. Footsteps jog up behind her and she slowly turns around, her breath caught in her throat. It’s the same blonde she’d ran into the night before. Literally-- _ ran into _ . 

“What’re you going?” the girl looks to her questioningly, her blue eyes prominent thanks to the sunlight leaking in through the trees. “Breakfast is this way. I’ll show you.”

And so, in an unexpected turn of events, Lexa finds herself being led into the mess hall by the girl, who’s holding her wrist. All she can do is look around with wide eyes as she guided over to a table. Everything’s a blur, but the girl asks her something about food--she thinks--and then she’s left alone with the other campers at the table. She recognizes a few of them from her cabin. Octavia, however, is nowhere to be found.

“Do we know what’s planned for today?” One of the girls speaks up, thankfully drawing the attention away from Lexa. She notices the black baseball glove beside the girl’s plate and quickly makes the connection--Costia. The girl who had made an odd comment about her the night before is sitting beside her, but she’s just crushing her eggs with the underside of her fork and keeping her head down. Lexa subtly mimics her, avoiding eye contact with everyone around them. 

“Make room,” someone bumps their hip against Lexa’s own--the blonde. Scooting over, Lexa watches as the girl slides into the bench and places a plate in front of her. 

“I asked if you wanted strawberry or grape jelly, but you just nodded, so I got you both,” The girl laughs softly. Lexa’s cheeks flush red in embarrassment but she quietly thanks the girl.

Breakfast carries on as usual, and Lexa’s thankful no one tries to make conversation with her. She sticks close to the blonde once the meal is over, though. And eventually, taking Lexa by surprise, the girl tugs her into her cabin while everyone else heads down to the softball field. 

“I know you’re not supposed to be here,” she blurts out as soon as they’re alone--making Lexa freeze, her entire body tensing. “Not that it matters,” the girl adds to try and ease her nerves. “You don’t look like you could hurt a fly. No offense.” She looks the girl up and down. “No one’s coming after you or some shit, right?”

Lexa hesitates. “They… they won’t know where I am.”

“Wait, what? There  _ are _ people after you?” She can sense the shock in the girl’s voice. 

“I… well… I…”

“You’ll be hidden enough out here,” the blonde brushes it off, which is the last thing Lexa expects for her to do. She tilts her head to the side. “I’m Clarke, by the way. Lexa, right?”

Lexa nods. “How… how did you know”

“Based on last night, how  _ wouldn’t _ I know?” Clarke raises an eyebrow. “It’s only a few of us. Octavia, Costia, and probably Raven, too. Everyone else just thinks you’re a new camper. Should probably keep it that way,” she pauses. “Oh, and you’ll probably need this,” she digs into her bag and tosses her a black shirt. “Your cabin color.”

“Why are you…?” Lexa shakes her head, wringing the black shirt in her hands. “ _ This _ …,” she motions around with her hand. “Why are you...?”

“Sisterhood,” Clarke nods once with a shrug. She reaches out to squeeze Lexa’s shoulder. “We protect each other around here. And you looked pretty damn scared last night, so…”

“I…” Lexa breathes out, longing to offer her an explanation. But she stops herself before she can, settling for a mere  _ “thank you.” _

With that, Clarke leaves her to change into her cabin’s shirt, and then they walk down to join the rest of the campers at the softball field. The boys have split into two teams. And as always, Costia stands proudly on the pitcher’s mound. Clarke’s able to locate Raven quickly, given that she’s the only one sitting at the top of the hill in a lawn chair. In an effort to cheer her up, Clarke leads Lexa over to her, sitting down in the grass to watch the game.

Costia’s easily the best player on the team. And paired with her toned arms and ridden up spandex, Lexa struggles to keep her eyes off of her as she reels back to pitch the ball to Miller. The bat cracks when it makes contact with the ball, and a chorus of cheers erupt from around them. However, a player from the opposite team gets to the ball just in time, diving forward and catching it moments before it touches the ground. They slide on their stomach across the grass, but the ball stays secure in their mitt. The cheers grow even louder. 

Something changes the moment the player jogs up to toss the ball back to Costia, though. When they-- _ she _ \--takes off her hat to wipe her forehead, dark brown hair falls down around her shoulders.

_ “Octavia?” _ Raven speaks up for the first time, surprise laced in her words as she leans forward in her chair. Clarke glances over to her. 

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That she made the team at her school,” Clarke nods. “Co-captain, too. She wouldn’t shut up about it in her letters.”

“Oh,” Raven mutters, slumping back in her chair. Lexa watches the exchange between the two of them, furrowing her eyebrows. 

“Are you two like… enemies or something?” She asks before she can stop herself. Clarke tenses beside her and Lexa suddenly regrets opening her mouth, but Raven just scoffs.

“Something like that.”

Clarke turns to look at Raven, visibly shocked. “What are you talking about?” There’s another crack of the bat and a cheer from the crowd, but Clarke’s eyes don’t leave Raven. “What happened to Octavia and Raven against the world?”

Raven rolls her eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realize there’s something different about the girl this summer--aside from her injury, which she’s yet to even allude to. The usual, outgoing, happy-go-lucky Raven seems to be gone, replaced with a mere shell of the girl she used to be. It scares Clarke, if she’s being honest.

“People change,” is all that Raven mutters before she grabs her crutch and rises to her feet. Clarke longs to offer her words of advice, but all she can do is watch as the girl limps away, relying heavily on the crutch under her arm to keep her upright. Seeing someone like Raven in such a vulnerable state makes Clarke’s heart ache. It’s killing her--not knowing what’s cast this black cloud over her friend, but she’s too scared to ask. Even Costia has somehow managed to keep her mouth shut.

“I don’t know what’s going on with her,” Clarke sighs, turning back to Lexa. However, she’s quickly aware that the girl’s attention is elsewhere, because she doesn’t even hear Clarke’s words. So she smirks, raising her voice. “Hot, right?”

Lexa jumps, practically caught in the act of ogling over Costia, who’s stretching in the dugout with a cocky smile on her face. She looks back to Clarke worriedly. “Wh-what?”

“Softball players,” Clarke nods to the field and wiggles her eyebrows. “Hot, right?”

“Oh,” Lexa breathes a sigh of relief, even though her eyes had been anywhere but the shirtless males scattered across the baseball diamond. “Yeah.”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Clarke leans back on her hands, resting her legs out in front of her, ankles crossed. “Costia doesn’t go for just anyone. Or anyone at all, really.”

“Costia?”

“Pitcher,” Clarke points to the same girl in the dugout, a smile tugging at her lips. “The one you were just drooling over.”

“I wasn’t--,”

“Either way, she’s only ever dated one guy,” Clarke nods, noting Lexa’s hesitation. “That only lasted a week. She’s kissed a bunch of us, though.”

“Us?”

“Me, Octavia, probably Raven at one point or another,” Clarke laughs and shakes her head. “Costia’s just… Costia. She likes her independence. Says she doesn’t feel anything when she kisses people.”

“So she like guys?”

“Oh no, she’s kissed guys too,” Clarke’s quick to explain. “Even slept with Bryan last summer. But now he’s gay and she’s made it clear that she’s perfectly happy on her own.”

“He’s gay?” 

“Do you always ask this many questions?” Clarke teases, but notices how Lexa shrinks under her gaze. “What is this, the 1950’s?” she nudges the girl’s shoulder to try and ease her nerves, trying to let in on her lightheartedness. “That’s his boyfriend on first base--Miller.”

_ “That’s  _ his boyfriend?” Lexa’s eyes widen. 

“Yup.”

“But he’s so…”

“So…?”

_ “Masculine,” _ Lexa breathes out, eyes turning back to Clarke.

But Clarke practically snorts with laughter upon hearing this, letting her head fall down, blonde waves spilling over her shoulder. “Really, what year are you from? You got a problem?”

“N-no, not at all,” Lexa panics and shakes her head. “He just doesn’t look…  _ you know…” _

“What do looks have to do with anything?” Clarke raises an eyebrow, her humor fading. “Just because I curl my hair and paint my nails doesn’t make me any less gay.”

“You’re gay?”

“ _ Bi _ .”

“You’re bi?”

“Again with the questions?” Clarke laughs, nodding. “I am. Got a problem?”

“No… no, I just--,”

“Wasn’t expecting it,” Clarke cuts her off, a playful smirk on her lips. Lexa’s face turns red and she quickly looks away to hide her blush. She hears Clarke chuckle beside her, ripping out a handful of grass and sprinkling it over Lexa’s knee. Confused, Lexa looks to her, brushing off her legs. But Clarke just smiles and nudges her shoulder, urging her to loosen up.

When sound of a bat cracking against a ball reverberates throughout the field, Lexa finds herself clapping along with the rest of the crowd. With every passing second she spends in this place, the more and more she fits in, and the less and less she wants to leave. She’s not sure if that’s a good thing.

“Did you see that?” Costia jogs over to them once the game ends, Octavia in tow. Lexa’s snapped out of her thoughts when Costia reaches over her to swipe two water bottles from Clarke’s bag, tossing one to Octavia. “O got Miller out on a fly ball.”

“M’gonna have a nasty bruise tomorrow,” Octavia mumbles, glancing down to her knee. She plops down on the grass beside Lexa, where she proceeds to practically down half her water bottle in one swig. Her baseball cap is turned backwards, with a messy ponytail hanging down from within. She glances to Lexa. “Nice shirt.”

Lexa looks down to the shirt she’s wearing--the black one that Clarke had given her--realizing Octavia and Costia sport matching counterparts. She just laughs softly, digging the tips of her shoes into the grass. As Costia continues going on and on about the game, still pumped up on adrenaline, Clarke brushes Lexa’s shoulder with her own and subtly directs her attention down the field, where Bryan and Miller are now talking to one another. Bryan leans in to whisper something in Miller’s ear, making him laugh and playfully punch the boy’s arm. For some reason, Lexa tears her eyes away, feeling uncomfortable.

“Alright, I’m going to get a shower,” Octavia announces, rising to her feet. Costia hops up after her, crushing the empty water bottle in her hand. 

“Me too, I’m beat,” she laughs, jogging over to Octavia and smacking her butt with her baseball glove. Octavia glares half-heartedly at her, but moments later they’re both breaking into a sprint, racing one another back to the cabins. 

“Octavia and Raven used to be inseparable,” Clarke speaks up when it’s just she and Lexa again, the rest of the crowd dispersing. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Which one is Raven again?”

“Dark hair, tan…” Clarke motions vaguely with one hand, making Lexa tilt her head to the side.

“The one with the leg…  _ thing?” _

Clarke purses her lips and nods softly. “That’s new. None of us know where it came from. Or what happened,” she sighs, revisiting her thoughts. “She’s got to be miserable. She used to be the star swimmer here, but now…”

“Wow,” Lexa whispers, watching as the rest of the field starts to clear out. Eventually, Clarke hops to her feet and extends a hand to Lexa, who just looks to her in confusion. She wants to hold her hand? Clarke wiggles her fingers and watches her expectantly. So, Lexa hurries to push herself up to her feet. But just as she’s about to reach for Clarke’s hand, the girl raises an eyebrow at her in confusion. Now even more lost, Lexa quickly lets her hands hang back at her sides and hurries to follow Clarke to--well, wherever she’s going. 

 

* * *

 

Somehow, if by magic, Octavia manages to avoid Raven for the rest of the day. Costia does her best to split her time between the two of them, but this leaves Octavia on her own for a large remainder of the afternoon. After dinner, she winds up reading in her bunk until curfew. Not that she minds, because the book she’s reading is on unsolved paranormal mysteries; but she still feels left out. 

And things get even more awkward when, later that night, Raven and Costia enter the room unannounced. The screen door swings shut behind them, Costia’s eyes widening when she sees Octavia in her bunk. But Raven completely ignores her. 

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Costia wanders over to her own bunk to grab a change of clothes, digging nervously through her bag. “Senior swim is tonight,” she speaks up to try and ease the tension. 

“What?” Octavia and Raven both reply at the same time. Octavia grimaces. 

“Senior swim,” Costia nods once. “You know? Wake up the littles and take them down to the lake?”

“They still do that?” Raven sounds annoyed.

“Course’” Costia strips down right there, tugging on a tank top and pajama pants before flipping her hair down to tie it up in a messy bun. She whips her head back up and places a hand on her hip. “You guys don’t remember when it happened to you?”

Octavia shakes her head. “I remember them coming into our bunk and waking us up, but I didn’t go. I hid.” Costia furrows her eyebrows and looks to Raven for an answer, but the girl just shrugs.

“Didn’t go either.”

“Oh,” Costia breathes out, quickly connecting the dots. Her eyes dart back and forth between the two girls--and there’s just enough silence to let a sheet of awkwardness to fall over the room. Surprisingly, Raven’s the first to break the silence, sighing and rolling over in her bunk.

“M’going to bed,” she mutters, tugging the blankets over her head. “Don’t bother waking me up for the swim.”

“You don’t want to swim?” Costia asks without thinking, biting her lip.

“Does it look like I can?” Raven’s voice is cold, muffled under the covers. The two other girls exchange wide eyed looks of realization. Costia suddenly regrets even bringing it up.

And for Octavia, well, she can’t help the wave of guilt that washes over her. At this point, she only longs for the fight to be forgotten between them, so she can do  _ something _ to help the girl. She’s managed to hold a grudge for almost two days, but now she’ll practically do anything to dissolve the tension between them. She would take back that night a million times over if she could. Hell, she would voluntarily take on whatever pain Raven’s feeling if it meant seeing her happy again. That’s how it’s always been. In this way, Octavia slowly comes to the realization that her feelings never really left, they only nestled themselves deeper. She’s not sure why it makes her want to hide.

Eventually, everyone else crowds into the cabin, but Octavia mimics Raven, tugging the blankets over her head and faking sleep to avoid meaningless conversation. Somewhere in between Costia and Fox getting into a pillow fight and Harper breaking out a bag of candy, Octavia winds up falling asleep. However, shortly past midnight, she’s awoken by an excited Costia shaking her shoulder.

“C’mon, we’re going to wake the kids,” Costia nudges her side once more for good measure. “Get your ass in a swimsuit, Blake.”

Groaning, Octavia lifts her head and meekly swipes her hair out of her face. “Screw it,” she mutters, tugging the blanket back over her head to try and keep the light out. She hears Costia hesitate. 

“Octavia…”

“Just go without me,” she deadpans before rolling onto her side. Costia sighs, but thankfully gives up on trying to change her mind. Octavia holds her breath until everyone funnels out of the bunk, flicking off the lights in the process. She just wants to sleep. If she could hibernate through the rest of the summer, she’d do it.

However, just as she turns over to go back to sleep, she hears a noise from outside the cabin. It immediately catches her attention.

Octavia lifts her head in confusion, listening for a few moments. She can only stay still for so long, though, and soon she’s untangling herself from her blankets and slowly climbing down to the ground. 

“Someone out here?” she speaks up, peeking out the front door of the cabin. Her eyes immediately land on a tiny figure only a few feet away, who jumps when she hears the door creak open. 

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Octavia hurries over to the small girl, who has her arms hugged tightly around her torso. She’s shivering, dressed in only a bathing suit. “Did you get lost?” Octavia asks in concern, kneeling down in front of the crying child, who only shakes her head violently. 

“You’re shivering,” Octavia notes. Still unsure of what to do, she winds up leading the tiny child into their cabin, making her sit on Costia’s bed while she digs through her bag. Once she retrieves an old hoodie of hers, she hurries back over to the girl, helping her tug it over her head. Sniffing, the small girl uses the sleeve of the oversized sweater to wipe her tear-stained cheeks. 

“What’s your name?” Octavia asks gently, sitting down on the bed beside the girl--whose feet dangle just a few inches above the ground. The child looks at her as if she’s trying to figure out her motives, glassy eyes scanning her face. Her hair is a dirty brown, just down to her shoulders, and she has dark freckles dotted across her cheeks. 

“Riley,” she sniffs, wiping her eyes once more. “What’s yours?”

“Octavia,” the older girl nods, noting how the girl is missing her two front teeth. “Now, do you wanna tell me why you’re up here and not down at the dock with all the other campers?”

“You’re supposed to be down there, too,” Riley notes.

“I’m a big kid, I get to do what I want,” Octavia nods once. Riley huffs, absentmindedly flapping the oversized sleeves of her hoodie before letting her hands flop into her lap.

“I don’t know how to swim,” the younger girl admits, quickly looking away in embarrassment. 

“So what?” Octavia doesn’t miss a beat. “No big deal.”

“Uh,  _ huge _ deal,” the girl huffs, exasperated. She looks at Octavia as if she’s clueless. “Everyone else can swim.”

“Well why don’t you ask one of them teach you?”

“Cause’ they’re weird,” Riley quips back, almost defensively. Then, however, her shoulders fall and her voice grows softer. “They don’t like me,” she adds under her breath.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Octavia laughs softly, but Riley just shakes her head firmly. 

“It’s one hundred percent, absolutely,  _ positively _ true,” she nods in finality, scrunching her nose. “They think I’m weird.”

“And why is that?”

Riley pauses for a moment. “Probably cause’ I’m weird.”

Octavia chuckles. “So? What’s wrong with being a little weird?”

“Cause then no one wants to be your friend,” Riley mumbles, hanging her head down.

“Hey now,” Octavia reaches out to squeeze her shoulder, feeling a pang of sympathy for the girl. “I’ll be your friend.”

“You will?” Riley’s eyes light up almost instantly and she looks to Octavia, her tongue poking through the hold where her front teeth used to be. 

“Course,” Octavia nods. “And as your friend, my first act of business will be teaching you to swim.”

“Right now?” Riley hops to her feet. Octavia can’t help but laugh. 

“Not when it’s this dark,” she places a hand on the girl’s shoulder to make her sit back down. “Tomorrow. I know the perfect spot.”

However, Riley’s attention is already somewhere else. She gently picks up Octavia’s wrist, tilting her head to the side to study the collection of colorful woven friendship bracelets hanging from her arm. “You must have a lot of friends,” she notes, looking up to the girl for an explanation. 

“Not really,” Octavia shrugs, shaking her wrist so the bracelets settle back into place. “Some people have given me more than one.”

“Oh,” Riley pauses in thought. “Like a best friend?” 

“Something like that.”

Luckily, Riley doesn’t interrogate her any further. Instead, Octavia winds up listening to her talk on and on about her home life while she sits behind the girl and sections her hair back into two braided pigtails. Eventually, one of the staff shows up in search of the missing camper, who makes Octavia pinky promise that she’ll teach her how to swim. Once she’s alone once more, Octavia takes a deep breath and makes her way back up to her bunk.

However, she quickly discovers that she’s not alone. The moment that she hears rustling in the bunk below her own, she freezes, holding her breath. 

_ “You’re _ going to teach her how to swim?”  _ Raven _ .

Octavia struggles to find the right words. Yet there’s a bitterness to Raven’s voice that makes her want to stay guarded. So, swallowing heavily, she nods. “What’s wrong with that?”

Raven laughs from below her and Octavia can’t tell if it’s out of actual amusement or sarcasm. Maybe both. “You can barely swim yourself.”

Octavia furrows her eyebrows, fingers curling around her blanket. “Yeah, well--,”

She cuts herself off as soon as she hears the creak of the front door, and both she and Raven dive back under the covers to fake sleep. Octavia holds her breath, listening as the giggling group of girls change out of their swimsuits and climb back into their bunks. When the lights are turned off once more, Octavia slowly lifts her head and spots Lexa sitting up in her bunk, running a comb through her wet hair. As soon as their eyes meet, Lexa offers her a shy smile, and Octavia has to force one back. At least someone’s having fun, she thinks, rolling onto her back and gazing up at the jagged ceiling. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> riley is so fun to write asdfghjkl she's just a lil ragamuffin.
> 
> i also love costia in this fic and her story is pretty interesting. she's ace and dealing w identity and all that fun stuff. you'll get to see more of that soon.
> 
> clexa's dynamic is fun and innocent and you get introduced to that in this chapter. octaven is angsty as always.
> 
> i'm working on playlists for octaven, clexa, and costia, and they'll be posted on 8tracks soon. 
> 
> leave a comment and lemme know what you think! enjoy.


	3. Chapter 3

For Clarke, camp is the closest thing she has to home. 

Sure, there’s the apartment that she lives in with her father during the school year, but camp is  _ home _ . Ever since they bought the plot of land and started building the place that had been her parents’ conjoined dream, she’s been permanently connected to camp. Maybe this is just her being sappy, but being here makes her feel closer to her mother. She would have loved it. 

Hell, Clarke’s practically grown up here. If asked, she could tell you when every building was built. She could show you the indentation of her 8 year old handprints in the concrete surrounding the mess hall, or the carved markings in the doorway of her father’s office, one for each year she’d grown a few inches taller. There’s still a dent on the slide from when she cracked her skull playing tag. This place is home, and she knows it like the back of her hand. 

To think that this is her last summer here as a camper scares her. Sure, she knows that she’ll be returning as a counselor for years to come, but this is the last breath of fresh air they’ll get before they go off to college. With Costia going to Florida to study sports journalism, Octavia off to Chicago to study criminal justice, and herself leaving for Michigan to study environmental science--she knows the letters they exchange will eventually dwindle down to the occasional one line email, if that. And for Raven, well, Clarke’s concerned that she’s already checked out, withdrawn herself completely. 

Clarke and Raven’s relationship has always been interesting. From the time they were appointed opposite bunk leaders during their first year, it’s always been a competition between the two. Raven’s team always kicked butt in the swimming relay (thanks to Raven), but Clarke remained undefeated in dodgeball. It’s always been a constant back and forth between them, vying for supreme leadership, but as they’ve gotten older they’ve managed to become good friends--with a tendency to get a little too competitive at times.

But this summer is different. This summer, Raven limped into camp with a dark cloud looming over her head. She’s a ticking time bomb, Clarke realizes, and with the sudden, obvious tension between her and Octavia, Clarke’s already bracing for impact. 

And while she’s trying to keep an eye on the dynamic between Octavia and Raven, there’s something else at the front of her mind--a “something else” with curly hair and big doe eyes. Clarke isn’t sure what kind of danger she might be putting them in by allowing Lexa to stay, but god, what’s the worst that Lexa could bring? Just this morning, she was late for breakfast after getting lost while trying to catch a butterfly.  _ A butterfly. _

So what could she be running from? Whatever Clarke had seen in her eyes that first night, be it fear or something deeper, she automatically had felt the overwhelming need to protect the girl.

Lexa’s obviously sweet, and means no harm, but there’s an added layer to the girl that Clarke struggles to decipher. It’s in the way she’d completely shut down when she had seen Bryan and Miller on the field, or how the night before she had refused to borrow anyone’s bathing suit for the senior swim. Clarke had still managed to pull her into the water in a t-shirt, and she could tell Lexa had begun to enjoy herself, but there’s still  _ something _ there. And it’s been driving Clarke crazy. 

After breakfast, she finds Lexa down near the docks, sitting alone at one of the wooden picnic tables. Clarke stands at the top of the hill, pausing for a moment to watch the girl, who bends down to pick up dandelions and stick them between the cracks in the bench. It’s a beautiful day, but there’s a slight breeze, and she keeps having to brush her hair out of her face. It takes Clarke a few seconds to snap out of her daze, and when she does, she jogs down to the docks. 

“Nice down here, huh?” she laughs. Startled, Lexa whips her head up as if she’s been caught, but relaxes once she recognizes who it is. 

“Yeah,” she half whispers, twirling one of the flowers between her fingers. She watches as Clarke skips a rock into the lake, brushing off her hands on her jeans before hopping up to sit on the picnic table. Lexa tenses.

“So why’re you down here all alone?” Clarke tilts her head to the side. “Not that it isn’t beautiful and all, but everyone else is up at the tennis courts.”

Lexa just shrugs, looking down at her hands. “I like being alone.” 

Clarke raises an eyebrow and points to herself. “Is that my cue to leave?” She moves to scoot off of the picnic table, but Lexa quickly shakes her head and sits up straighter. 

“I-I don’t mind,” she says softly, using one hand to keep her hair out of the wind. 

“Should I take that as a compliment?” Clarke teases, lying on her back across the table so she can gaze up at the sky. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Lexa studying her, as if she’s nervous of the girl’s intentions. Slowly, Lexa draws her hands back into her lap.

“ _ So _ ,” Clarke clears her throat when Lexa remains silent, turning her head to look at the girl. Right away, Lexa seems to be bracing herself for whatever she’s about to ask. “You’ve got a family out there somewhere, right?”

Lexa’s eyes flicker away from Clarke’s almost immediately, the question hanging heavy between them. “Course’ I do,” she finally speaks up. “They’re probably looking for me by now,” she adds, glancing towards the wilderness as if danger could come at any moment. There’s a far away look in her eyes.

“They’re that bad?”

“What?”

“Your parents,” Clarke explains. “They’re bad enough that you had to run from them?”

However, Clarke’s surprised when Lexa rushes to shake her head. “They try their best,” her eyes meet Clarke’s as if she’s trying to convince her of this. “They really do. They think they’re doing the right thing.”

“But they’re not?” Clarke sits up slightly, propping herself up on one elbow. “They’re not doing the right thing?”

Lexa turns suddenly to look at the girl, realizing what Clarke’s trying to draw out of her. But she just sighs and looks away. “You really want to know?”

“If you’re comfortable with telling me.”

Lexa lets out a long breath, absentmindedly toying with a strand of her hair. “They’re scientologists--my family,” she breathes out. Clarke’s eyes widen.

“Like the cult?”

Lexa tenses up. “Technically it’s a religion,” her voice is quiet, speaking the words that have been drilled into her countless times before. The same words that make turn her into a nervous wreck every time she’s forced to tell someone. This time is no different.

“But isn’t it…  _ extreme _ ?” Clarke rewords her question when she notes Lexa’s hesitancy. Thankfully, the girl responds more willingly this time.

“You could say that, yeah,” she breathes out, her eyes falling closed. “I really shouldn’t be talking about this.”

“Why not?”

“Cause I’m not supposed to. They’ll find out.”

_ “They?”  _

Inhaling slowly, Lexa nods. “They know everything.”

“ _ They’re _ not here right now, right?” Clarke suddenly becomes concerned, sitting up and scanning their surroundings. 

“No,” Lexa quickly shakes her head, bringing one of her hands up to the picnic table. “No--it’s not like that.”

“Then how will  _ they _ know?”

“I tell them.”

“You tell them?” Clarke looks to her as if they’re speaking in circles. 

Flinching, Lexa’s breath hitches and she leans back. “I… you don’t understand.” 

“What don’t I understand?” Clarke raises an eyebrow and Lexa struggles to maintain eye contact with her, nervously digging her nails into her knuckles. 

“If they catch me… I have to tell them everything,” she bites her lip. “It’s not my choice.”

“Ever heard of lying?” Clarke looks at her in utter confusion. “Or just withholding information?”

“You don’t understand, Clarke,” Lexa shakes her head. “I have to tell them everything.”

“And what if you don’t?”

“Then I can’t leave.”

“What?!”

Lexa sighs and squeezes her eyes shut. “It’s just how things work,” she says softly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I have to tell them everything or else the E-meter will know I’m withholding something.”

Clarke just stares at her as if she’s speaking a different language. 

“Everyone in our compound had to go to auditing sessions,” she tries her best to break it down, even though it seems fairly simple to her--it’s something she’s been doing for as long as she can remember. “You sit in a room with a person called an auditor, and they ask you questions about…  _ everything. _ Kinda like therapy.”

“Oh, and you have to hold these cylinders,” she nods, holding up her hands in two fists and trying to ignore the look of disbelief on Clarke’s face. “They’re connected to the e-meter, cause’ it knows when you’re lying.”

“And you really believe that?”

Lexa hesitates before shrugging. “If the e-meter says you’re lying, they ask you the question again and again until you tell the truth… or until you make something up that the e-meter agrees with.”

“So it  _ doesn’t _ work?”

“I mean… no,” Lexa shakes her head, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “It works a lot of the time. I mean, it knew I was lying when--,” she starts, but cuts herself off as soon as she realizes the secret she’s about to reveal. Her eyes dart to Clarke worriedly, yet even though the girl looks curious, she seems to hold herself back from interrogating her. Lexa doesn’t breathe.

“So what’s the point of all that? To keep tabs on every move you make?”

Lexa’s relieved when the conversation moves in another direction--one that she’s able to address. “It’s supposed to keep you clean. Unburden you,” she explains, pausing. “But that too. They… they can use it against you. You can get in trouble for something you admit to.”

“So that’s what happened to you,” Clarke notes, quickly realizing the girl is speaking from experience. To her, it sounds all too crazy to be real. But it’s obvious that Lexa is being truthful--especially if she believes she’s taking a risk by telling Clarke this.

Lexa’s eyes widen and she hesitates to answer. But eventually, she simply sighs and rises to her feet. “You said everyone’s at the tennis courts, right?” She bites her lips when she sees the disappointment flash across Clarke’s features, but she tenses her fists and forces herself to remain distant. It’s how she’ll survive.

Defeated, Clarke gives up on prying any more information out of the girl. She’s already got something, she figures. Lexa was willing to open up the window into her past, if just a sliver. But Clarke’s still curious. And if she could, she’d bombard the girl with questions. But Lexa’s own hesitancy holds her back. Instead, she settles for leading the girl up to the other campers, keeping quiet and processing everything she’s just been told.

* * *

 

 

“But what if there’s sharks in there?”

Riley’s flip flops slap against the wooden planks of the dock, reverberating and echoing across the lake. The small girl hangs back, clutching a clean towel to her chest while Octavia kicks off her shoes and peels off her tank top. It crumples to a heap on the grassy waterbank. 

“There’s no sharks in here, promise,” Octavia dips her toes into the water, nodding in approval. It’s warm, but not bathwater. Warm enough that swimming at night is still bearable. 

“What about fish?”

“Of course there’s fish,” Octavia shrugs, glancing over her shoulder at the tiny girl who’s only ventured a few steps onto the dock. “C’mon, watch and learn.”

Without hesitation, Octavia takes a running start and plunges into the lake. As soon as she hits, becoming submerged in the water, there’s a weight lifted off her shoulders. She’s suddenly eight years old again, being led into the lake by Raven, iron grip on the girl’s hand as she convinces her to dive under the docks. 

She breaks the surface when she comes up for air, slicking her hair back and digging the balls of her feet into the muddy surface beneath them. As she looks to the dock, Riley now stands hesitantly at the edge, peering out at the water to make sure she’s alright. She’s curious--a good sign.

“See?” Octavia holds up both hands in testament that she can stand on her own. “If there were any fish, they’re gone now. My splash scared them away.” She uses her arm to block the sun from her eyes and watches as Riley takes a nervous step forward, her toes just kissing the edge of the dock. 

“What if I sink to the bottom?”

“Then I’ll be right here to grab you,” Octavia nods once. “Just close your eyes, plug your nose, and jump.”

At first, when Riley takes a few steps backward, Octavia’s convinced she’s going to run back to safety. But she’s proven wrong the moment footsteps pound against the dock, and a blue blur--the same color of the girl’s swimsuit--comes flying through the air. She lands with a splash, bobbing underwater for only a few seconds before Octavia lifts her up, hands tight under her armpits. Catching her breath, Riley immediately kicks her legs as if she’s trying to keep herself afloat, her nails dig into Octavia’s arms, clinging to her for dear life.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, look,” Octavia slowly lowers her until she feels the girl’s feet brush the bottom of the lake. The water’s just up to her shoulders, and she can see the realization flicker in RIley’s eyes. The small girl lets out a nervous laugh, her hold on Octavia beginning to loosen. 

“It’s not even deep here, see?” Octavia offers her a comforting smile. The water laps against the shore, stirred from where they’d jumped in, and Octavia realizes just how much she’d missed the lake. It’s always been an integral part of her summer. Images of the hours spent here with Raven flash through her mind, and she feels a pang of guilt for her lost friend, unsure if Raven will ever be able to really enjoy the lake again.

The sun’s just beginning to set by the time Riley works up the courage to swim out to Octavia in the deeper section of the lake. She’s a mess of tangled limbs, thrashing around more like a frog than a human, but she’s improving. Octavia grabs her once she’s within reach, holding her up and letting the small girl gasp for air. 

“You did it!” Octavia smiles widely, in turn making Riley giggle in excitement. Her pigtails lay slick against the sides of her head, her proud smile sporting the gap in her mouth where her front teeth used to be. She reminds Octavia all too much of her younger self. 

“Think you can make it back?” Octavia raises an eyebrow, presenting her with a challenge. Like she’d hoped, Riley nods immediately. She takes one last deep breath and propels herself into the water, her bare feet pushing off of Octavia’s knees for a boost. 

“She’s not using her arms enough.”

Octavia nearly gasps when a new voice appears, making her whip her head around in all directions. Her heart drops, though, when her eyes land on Raven. The girl sits on the dock with her legs hanging over the edge. She has both arms holding her up, palms pressed flat against the wood, the tip of her good foot just brushing the surface of the water.

Octavia opens her mouth to speak, but before she can muster up a response, Riley pops out of the shallow end and dramatically catches her breath. She immediately notices the newcomer on the dock, which sends her looking to Octavia in confusion. 

“Use your arms,” Raven speaks up to draw the youngest girl’s attention. Water droplets fly as Riley whips her head back around to look at the source of the voice. 

“You’re trying to  _ grab _ the water. Don’t do that,” Raven’s blunt. “You want to move it out of the way, like opening a curtain.” She demonstrates with her hands, clapping them together and then curving them apart from one another. But Riley’s hesitant to take the stranger’s advice and looks to Octavia for approval.

“Listen to her,” Octavia nods, managing a reassuring smile for the girl. “She’s the best swimmer in this entire camp.”

“Used to be,” Raven corrects her under her breath, eyes falling downward. Though her words go unnoticed by Riley, who’s already dived back under the water, Octavia can’t help the look of hurt that flashes across her face. But Raven seems to be purposely avoiding her gaze. 

Raven’s advice works, and Riley covers the space between them in record time. When she bobs up, grabbing onto Octavia for stability, she squeals in excitement. Octavia sees Raven grimace from the docks. It’s as if she’s a completely different person. 

“I’ll race you back,” Octavia does her best to shake off her nerves, giving Riley a playful smile. Once Riley worms her way out of her grip and back into the water, Octavia gives her a headstart before diving under after her. She uses her feet, propelling herself forward and soaking in the muffled silence of being underwater. It’s surreal. But reality revisits her all too quickly. By the time they make it back to the shore, with Riley in the lead, the dock is barren. Raven’s gone. 

As she wraps herself in a towel and walks a shivering Riley back to her cabin, Octavia can’t help but keep an eye out for any traces of the girl. But Raven is nowhere to be found. Octavia wonders if she’s just imagined the whole thing. 

However, a tug at her arm brings her out of her thoughts. Riley looks up at her with a curious glimmer in her eyes. “Was that your best friend?”

“Huh?” Octavia stops dead in her tracks, caught off guard. The two words--however cheesy they may be--bring forth an onslaught of memories.

“That girl,” Riley holds up Octavia’s wrist and points to a blue and white friendship bracelet--the one she and Raven had exchanged last summer. “She matched.”

“Oh,” Octavia whispers, averting her eyes. She does her best to shrug it off. “They’re just bracelets.”

“But they match,” Riley insists, shaking her wrist. 

“We made them together,” Octavia admits, slipping her hand away. And thankfully, Riley seems to accept that as enough of an answer. She’s soon distracted by something else, bare feet brushing through the grass as she chases after a firefly. 

When Octavia makes the climb back into her bunk that night, she lingers for a moment, willing Raven to look at her from where she lays just a few feet away. But even though she  _ knows _ Raven can feel her gaze, the girl doesn’t move an inch. A frustrated sigh leaves Octavia’s throat as she hoists herself back onto her own bunk. 

Raven’s a different person, even in appearance. Camp used to rejuvenate her--fill her with life. But now she seems lifeless, jadedly going through the motions. She’s not the same girl Octavia remembers--not the same girl who was a ringleader, the girl who would drag Octavia around camp with a spring in her step. She’s a stranger in Raven’s clothes, and it scares Octavia more than she’s willing to admit. 

* * *

 

 

The gravel pathway crunches under Lexa’s feet, the tennis shoes slipping on and off the back of her heels, practically rubbing her skin raw. They’re not even hers, they’re Costia’s. Or Octavia’s. She’s starting to lose track of all the things they’ve leant her. Items have just started appearing on her bed--a tube of sunscreen, a pair of shower flip flops, a bundle of mismatched socks. Is this what friends are like? Lexa wonders if she should start taking notes.

All she’s known thus far is order. There was a routine back at the compound--one that would send her parents away on mission trips for weeks at a time. Sometimes even months. Friends were unheard of. If you were caught getting close to someone your age, it wasn’t a surprise when you were moved to a different classroom without any warning, or given a completely new schedule--one even more isolating than before. It was a subtle punishment, an unspoken warning.

So, it goes unsaid that Lexa likes camp a lot better than the compound. Or the place she was sent  _ after _ her last auditing session. It still haunts her, keeping her up at night. Which is why tonight, she’s somehow wound up on a walk at midnight, the cold air prickling goosebumps up and down her arms. 

It’s pitch black. Not that she minds, to be honest. It’s not scary enough to make her sneak back into her bunk. And even though everyone else is asleep, she’s got the sound of the crickets and the frogs to keep her company. 

She counts her steps down to the dock--twenty seven by the time she reaches the picnic table. The grass is wet under her feet as she kicks off her shoes, wiggling her toes once they’re free. She’s not sure why she likes it down here as much as she does. Maybe it’s the water. Something about looking out at the flat expanse of lake helps to clear her head.

“Night swim?” 

Lexa nearly falls off the bench when a voice from behind interrupts her thoughts. This is the second time Clarke’s managed to sneak up on her, she realizes as the blonde readily plops down onto the open side of the bench. Still reeling from shock, Lexa’s eyes just dart to her in confusion. 

“I was up,” Clarke explains herself without being prompted. “Heard your footsteps. Thought you were gonna make a run for it.”

“Oh,” Lexa looks down at her hands on the table and suddenly feels too exposed. She pulls them into her lap, breathing in slowly. “That’s honestly the last thing on my mind.”

“Then what is?” Clarke leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. 

“Huh?”

“What’s on your mind? What’s got you down here in the middle of the night?” She nods back towards the lake. 

“I’m not doing anything bad,” Lexa jumps to defend herself, shrinking when Clarke raises an eyebrow at her. 

“I’m not trying to interrogate you,” Clarke’s quick to shake her head. “I just… figured something was wrong. Thought you might want to talk about it. You know, without a lie detector or anything,” Clarke laughs softly at her own joke, but Lexa’s gaze only skitters downward.

When she feels the bench shift, Lexa’s certain that Clarke’s turning to leave. Which is why, seconds later, she’s tensing when the girl slides into place to sit next to her. 

“See that?” 

Lexa slowly lifts her head to look at Clarke, who points up at something in the sky. Squinting, Lexa follows her gaze, tilting her chin upwards.

“I don’t…” Lexa’s voice is soft, concentrated. She holds her breath when she feels a hand on her shoulder, guiding her gaze to a section of the sky just above the flagpole.

“I-I just see stars.”

“Yeah, that’s a start. See that dim one?” Clarke nods. “It’s really tiny. To the right of that cluster.” She traces a circle in the sky. Lexa’s eyes finally land on the small star, nodding slowly. 

“I see it,” she whispers. Clarke leans back against the table and crosses her legs.

“That’s Alice.”

“Who? What?” 

“My mom. That’s her star.”

“She owns it?”

“Well…”

“Is that even legal? I mean--,”

“She’s dead,” Clarke blurts out, cutting Lexa off and making her tense up moments later. “Died when I was six,” she breathes in slowly. Waiting a second, she feels Lexa frozen in place beside her. 

“But that’s her star, I named it after her,” Clarke clears her throat. “Dad named the camp. I named the star. It’s how we cope, I guess,” she shrugs one shoulder.

Suddenly feeling too vulnerable, Lexa peels her eyes off of the sky. “Wh-why are you telling me this?”

“Not one for sympathy, I see.”

“No--no, it’s not that, I-I just--,”

“Kidding,” Clarke’s feet thump against the ground as she stands up. “We’ve all got shit that keeps us up at night, Lexa. Don’t think you’re special just because you do.”

Lexa opens her mouth to speak, but all that comes out is a strangled breath, her eyes following Clarke’s shadow as she ascends back up the gravel hill. Once her heavy footsteps are merely crunches in the distance, Lexa lets her head fall into her hands. She’s not sure why her heart is beating a mile a minute, but she already knows she’s not getting a wink of sleep tonight. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yay for backstories being revealed
> 
> lexa's is a bit.. different. if you don't know what scientology is, it's considered a 'religion' but it's a very strict (cult-like) sort of organization. i read a book a while back called "Beyond Belief: My Secret Life Inside Scientology and My Harrowing Escape" by Jenna Miscavige Hill and it was super interesting, and i wound up reading a lot about their views on homosexuality and whatnot. scary but interesting. but basically, she grew up in an environment surrounded by /extremely/ religious conforming people and it controlled almost every aspect of her life. more will be revealed soon. 
> 
> and of course, poor little octaven being distant and angsty as always. 
> 
> leave a comment and lemme know what you think!


	4. Chapter 4

Raven can’t feel anything. And not just her leg.

She’s not sure what’s going on. One minute, she was sitting with Clarke and Lexa by the softball field, watching the game and swatting flies out of her face. And the next, her tongue was way too heavy in her mouth, sparks popping across her eyelids. Unsure of what to do, she had tried to remain calm, but the moment she stood up her head had started to spin. The next thing she knows, she’s crumpled to the ground, struggling to breathe.

She hears Clarke and Lexa’s voices in slurs, hears the murmur of the crowd around her, but her lungs are begging for air, fighting against her throat that feels as if it’s closing in on itself. The panic pounds against her chest, and as the edges of her vision starts to blur, the last thing she hears before it all goes black is a familiar voice calling her name.

 

* * *

  

“Raven?!”

The ball soaring through the air is forgotten the moment Octavia turns her head toward the commotion off the field. It whizzes over her head, bouncing across the field and earning a chorus of annoyed murmurs from her teammates. Her glove drops to the ground moments later, and her hat follows, flipping off of her head as she breaks into a sprint away from the field.

_“Move,”_ she growls as she shoves her way through the crowd that’s started to gather, pushing Clarke aside and dropping to her knees next to Raven’s body. Her eyes dart around the horde of feet surrounding them, searching.

“Where’s her bag?” Octavia lifts her head in a hurry, her hair whipping across her face as she looks to the crowd for help. Something’s tossed her way moments later, slumping to a pile at her knees.

“What’s going on?” Costia’s by her side in seconds, the second player to abandon the game. The rest of the players stand on the field, hands dangling idly at their sides as they try to decipher what’s going up further up the hill. Octavia digs feverously through Raven’s bag, tossing it aside the moment she locates what she needs.

“She’s allergic to bees,” Octavia breathes out in passing. She tears off the cap of Raven’s EPIPen between her teeth, spitting it into the grass at the same time that she jams the needle into Raven’s thigh, fist tight around the shot. There’s a murmur of shock through the crowd surrounding her, but she doesn’t notice it. The only thing Octavia hears is the hiss of the medicine as it leaves the pen and enters Raven’s bloodstream--live saving epinephrine. She’s done this only once before--the summer they were ten when Raven had to coach a shaking Octavia through it. She’d cried afterwards, sticking extra close to Raven’s side for the remainder of the summer, keeping her far away from any potential danger. But she has a feeling this time will be different.

“Go get a staff member,” she slaps Costia’s leg in urgency. Within seconds, the girl’s sprinting off towards the medical building, kicking up clumps of dirt in her wake.

Octavia’s more relieved than she’s ever been when Raven’s eyes flutter open, glazed over with a coat of tears. Then, she's scouring the crowd for someone with an inhaler, lifting Raven’s head into her lap and coaching her into taking a few deep breaths. She doesn’t miss how Raven’s eyes widen when they land on her, but as Raven’s mouth opens, struggling to form words, Octavia tears her eyes away and snaps at a cluster of campers who have moved too close.

When a staff truck pulls up into the grass, Costia hopping out of the backseat, Octavia takes it as her cue to leave. Once the car drives off with Raven in tow, she’s gone--nowhere to be found. Clarke and Costia exchange questioning glances once the crowd has dispersed, the only items on the field being Octavia’s glove and cap.

 

* * *

 

If there’s anything Costia knows about Octavia, it’s that she’s shit at hiding her feelings. When she’s mad, her hands tense into fists. When she’s sad, it’s impossible for her to look someone in the eyes--and also, when she's overwhelmed with any type of emotion, Costia knows exactly where to find her.

“Hey, Tarzan!”

Costia pushes through the brush as her voice echoes around the forest. Her calloused hands curl around the tree branch she grabs onto, hoisting herself up and using her feet to push off of the trunk. She’s not as skilled as Octavia, but she manages to scale the old oak within seconds.

“You forgot these,” she remarks, slapping a bundled up baseball glove and cap into the girl’s lap. Octavia doesn’t even glance at the girl when she slides onto the branch next to her, but her hands slowly come to grip her belongings. Her knuckles ripple as she tenses and untenses her fists. It’s a surefire sign that she’s trying to contain herself.

So they sit there in silence, Octavia’s bare feet dangling down beside Costia’s, high above the soft grass beneath them. Heat is radiating off of the girl, sweat beading at her forehead--another sign. Her cheeks are flushed, her jaw taut, and Costia can only imagine the thoughts running through her head. She can only handle seeing her friend drive herself crazy for so long.

“Not that I’m an expert on this or anything, because I’m not. N’fact I’m probably the furthest thing from it…” Costia clears her throat, laughing awkwardly. The only sign that Octavia’s listening is the slight tilt of her head, the purse of her lips. So Costia continues.

“But you kind of suck at holding in your emotions, if you hadn’t figured that out already,” Costia nods. “You’ve been… _off…_ ever since you got here. And you know, you’re driving me crazy. I was waiting for you to come to me, but…” she tilts her head to the side, her sweat-soaked hair spilling down her shoulders.

Octavia doesn’t respond, but she sucks her lips into her mouth, knuckles tightening around her baseball glove.

“Tough crowd,” the girl beside her mumbles. She punches her own glove twice, letting her hands drop into her lap. “You’re really not gonna tell _me…?_ Your friend? Fellow Black Dahlia?” she nudges Octavia’s shoulder with a playful smile, which falls only moments later when the girl simply scoots away from her.

“Wow. Worse than I expected,” Costia hums, looking down at the ground, at their feet slowly swinging back and forth. “That serious, huh?”

“Just drop it, Costia,” Octavia finally speaks, her voice rough and wrought with exhaustion. Costia opens her mouth to say something, but Octavia just slaps on her baseball cap. All Costia can do is watch as she pushes off of the branch, her feet thumping against the ground and leaving two indents in the grass where she lands.

It’s only when Octavia’s long gone, disappearing back into the forest, that Costia’s eyes wander over to the space where she had been. As soon as she sees it, something sparks within her--it’s an answer.

Her fingers brush over the initials, crudely carved into the curve of the bark where branch meets tree, nearly hidden. _“ON + RN”_

Octavia Nyx and Raven Nicole, Costia realizes, digging her thumbnail into the curve of the O. Middle names--an old trick. It all starts to make sense the moment she pieces together the past few days--the tension between the two, Octavia’s mood swings, Raven’s complete avoidance of her former best friend. It’s all been staring her straight in the face. Her glove slips out of her hand, thumping against the ground as her mouth falls open in realization.

 

* * *

 

“Why do you even care?”

Clarke jumps when a voice pierces the silence. Her book falls out of her hands and she freezes when the top of Lexa’s head comes into view, bobbing up and down as she climbs up the ladder to the top bunk. “What?”

_“You,”_ Lexa breathes out, pressing her palms into Clarke’s mattress. She keeps her feet on the rungs of the ladder. “I’ve been trying to figure it out, driving myself crazy, but I just--I can’t,” she shakes her head, her words rushed and jumbled together. Blinking rapidly, she looks to Clarke with pleading eyes.

“Figure what out?” Clarke’s suddenly filled with concern. She sets her book down slowly, losing her place.

“Why you care,” Lexa slowly steps up another rung, motioning to the girl and letting her hand fall limply back onto the mattress. “I don’t get it. I mean… at first I thought you were just trying to get ammunition against me, but then you told me about your mom, and I… I--Why _do_ you?”

“Why do I care?” Clarke furrows her eyebrows together. Lexa nods almost immediately, eyes wide with worry.

“Sit,” Clarke sighs. She pats the space beside her, scooting over to give Lexa room. There’s hesitation in her actions, but Lexa slowly crawls onto the bunk, back resting against the wall. She scratches at the pink sheets absentmindedly. Clarke’s quiet for a few moments, watching how Lexa hugs her knees to her chest, a bundled mess of limbs and curly hair.

“There’s a storm brewing,” the girl mumbles, growing even more nervous. Something about being around Clarke makes her more shy than usual. She remains perfectly still as the blonde shifts beside her.

“I care because I can’t help it,” Clarke’s voice is gentle. “I care about everyone here. Sometimes wish I didn’t.”

Lexa lifts her head, small baby curls dangling down around her ears. She blows one out of her face. “That’s it?”

“What?”

“You. Caring,” Lexa nods once. “It’s not because you need information against me?”

“What could I possibly use against you?” The corner of Clarke’s eyes crinkle in concern.

The next breath that escapes Lexa’s lips is shaky, trembling. She crumples into herself, her head falling into her knees, fingers balling fists into her thick hair. Clarke’s hand is suddenly hovering just inches about Lexa’s shoulder, hesitant.

“Hey,” she keeps her voice soft, her hand eventually coming to rest on the girl’s shoulder, fingers pressed against the curve of her neck. Lexa flinches, her hair spilling over her face as she turns her head to the side, eyes nervously meeting Clarke’s.

“Listen, Lexa, unless you murdered someone or… I don’t know--kidnapped a child, I don’t care,” she offers her a comforting smile. “I wasn’t trying to force you to tell me anything. I was just worried you were driving yourself insane with whatever you were hiding.”

“You were worried?”

“For god’s sake, Lexa,” Clarke closes her eyes and presses her hands to her forehead, making stars spark across the dark of her eyelids. “What’s so surprising about someone caring about you? Why--?”

“I kissed a girl, okay?!” Lexa hisses, her eyes meeting Clarke’s for a few long, tense seconds. She holds her breath.

“That’s it?” Clarke raises an eyebrow. Hesitantly, Lexa bows her head in a nod. She’s expecting Clarke to scramble off the bunk and run away from her, or scoff in disgust. But what she doesn’t expect is for the girl to burst into laughter, doubling over and slapping her hand against her knee.

Despite how hilarious Clarke finds this, her laughter turns into a sharp, quick inhale when she lifts her head to see Lexa’s buried her head back into her arms. All humor is forgotten. Her eyebrows stitch together and she quickly scoots closer.

“Okay, okay, come on,” Clarke squeezes her shoulder. “There’s nothing to be afraid of. Hell, you don’t think I’ve kissed girls before?” She holds up her hands as if she’s surrendering.

“Yeah, but…” Lexa’s voice is muffled against her arms.

“Look at me,” Clarke nudges the girl’s knee with her own. She sing-songs the girl’s name, bumping her with her shoulder until she finally lifts her head. Clarke immediately notices the strands of hair that stick to her tear stained cheeks. It takes everything in her not to reach out and wipe them away. She settles for laying a comforting hand on the girl’s back.

“You don’t get it,” Lexa whispers. There’s a waver in her voice that makes Clarke shiver--a darkness that shocks her system. “You just… it’s _different_.”

“Lexa…” Clarke lets out a defeated sigh, tired of dancing around the topic. “What happened that was so bad? What forced you to run?”

Lexa’s bottom lip trembles and it’s physically impossible for her to look at Clarke, whose eyes are so gentle and full of concern that it floods Lexa with guilt. Her eyelids wrinkle from how tightly she squeezes them shut, a shaky breath escaping her lips.

“I had to tell them,” her words fade out between them. Clarke holds her breath, a few tense seconds of silence lingering in the air.

“They knew,” Lexa’s voice is strangled. “I don’t know how, but they knew I was hiding something big,” she swallows. “I tried to lie--tried to admit to something else… I really did. But she just kept asking… kept _pushing…_ ”

“Was this the lie detector thing?”

“Auditing,” Lexa nods slowly. “I sat in there for hours. And I… I didn’t even have to say it. She just started asking questions, filling in the blanks… _‘You kissed one of your peers, didn’t you? And someone of the same sex? Isn’t that right?’”_ Lexa’s lip curls in disgust as she imitates the woman who’d drilled her with questions, her voice bitter. Clarke’s not sure if it’s directed towards herself or the situation. She hopes it’s the latter.

“The only thing I had to do was nod,” Lexa whispers, her eyes falling down to her hands. “Condemned myself with one nod. Got myself shipped off. Because I nodded.”

“Shipped off?” Clarke tilts her head to the side.

“To a camp,” Lexa admits. “Not like this one.”

It hits Clarke all at once and she practically springs up from where she sits, now kneeling next to the girl, giving her her full attention. Her eyes widen. “Like one of those… gay rehab camps?” Her words make Lexa flinch.

“Kinda like that, yeah,” she mumbles. Her fingers curl and uncurl themselves around the cuffs of her pants, nails digging into her ankles and leaving ring-shaped indents. “Kinda like hell. Kinda like a nightmare.” Her breaths come out in shaky spurts and Clarke shudders.

“Hell?” Clarke asks softly. Lexa nods against her hands.

“Maybe even worse,” she massages the tips of her fingers into her scalp. “I would’ve chosen hell over that place. Over everything that they--,” her voice cracks and she looks away, a strangled whimper escaping her lips.

“Evil,” Clarke mutters, digging her heels into the sheets. “Just fucking evil.”

At the same moment that thunder rumbles in the distance, Lexa finally lets out the choked sob she’s been holding in. And as rain begins pounding down against the tin roof of the cabin, drowning out all other noise, Lexa’s tears stain the shoulder of Clarke’s hoodie when she finally gives in and pulls the girl into a hug.

  

* * *

  

“Cos.”

“Costia.”

_“Costia.”_

Octavia lifts her head slowly, leaving a face-shaped dent in her pillow. She blinks rapidly to let her eyes adjust to the pitch black darkness of the cabin, the only light coming from the flickering bulb hanging outside above the front porch. At the same time, the bunk below her shifts, making the wood frame bump unceremoniously against the wall. Octavia balls her hands into fists and fights the urge to smother herself with a pillow. This has been going on for the last ten minutes.

“Costia…” Raven’s voice appears again, spoken between clenched teeth, quiet and contained. Octavia tries to hold back, but eventually gives in, especially after she hears the frustrated sigh that echoes through the room.

“She’s obviously asleep,” Octavia mutters, her words piercing the thin air. The bunk rocks again, a result of Raven’s surprise. And then it grows quiet--the only sound between them is a shaky breath that escapes Raven’s lips.

“Well I need her,” the girl underneath her mutters, grinding her teeth together in the back of her mouth.

“For what?”

“I just… _need_ her,” Raven’s voice softens, weakness seeping through. Moments later there’s a sigh, and the top bunk creaks as Octavia rolls over. Her head dangles over the edge of her bunk, fingers curling around the railing. She can barely make out Raven’s face in the dark.

“I can help,” she offers carefully. A strand of hair falls down around her face and she blows it away. She can see Raven thinking--sees the way the girl looks to Cosita, dead asleep with no hope of being stirred awake. Her eyes finally fall shut for a few long seconds, carefully choosing her words.

“It hurts to breathe again,” Raven admits, her eyes still closed tightly. “My antibiotics. I left them in the bathroom.”

Octavia nods quickly, mumbling something to herself. And to Raven’s relief, instead of questioning her further, she’s descending the ladder within seconds, her soft footsteps padding into the bathroom. She locates Raven’s bathroom bag right away--the same one she’s been using for years. By the time she kneels next to Raven’s bunk, she’s already digging through it.

“No, no, you don’t have to, I can take it from--,” Raven starts to panic, but clamps her mouth shut the moment one of the caps spring loose, bright red pills scattering across the floor and flying in all different directions. Both girls freeze, completely tense for a moment as they listen, praying that no one’s been stirred awake.

“Shit, shit, sorry,” Octavia hisses under her breath once she deems it safe, immediately scrambling to gather the rouge pills back together. As she blows them off and funnels them back into the bottle with shaky hands, a pungent, metallic smell makes her lip curl in distaste. She holds her breath and quickly holds out the bottle in Raven’s direction.

“Those aren't…” Raven hesitates, not moving to take them from Octavia’s grip. She hates herself for causing this situation. “The antibiotics are the blue ones,” she finally admits, breathing out slowly.

“Oh,” Octavia whispers, feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand up in realization. The pills clatter around in the bottle as she shoves them back into the bag, hurrying to locate the blue pills and quietly pass them to Raven. As the girl tosses her head back and swallows the pills, chugging the gatorade Octavia hands to her, Octavia pauses and smells her hand. The same metallic smell makes her cough and shudder, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Raven.

“Strong ones,” the girl on the bed mutters, snatching the bag out of Octavia’s reach and shoving it somewhere between her mattress and the wall. “Legal, though,” she adds, her eyes skittering down to her leg for a split second--just long enough to let Octavia know exactly what they’re for.

“Got it,” Octavia’s voice is barely audible. She rises to her feet.

“Wait,” Raven blurts out, and for some reason Octavia’s filled with false hope. Slowly, she turns back around to look at the girl and nods, a cue for her to go on.

“My inhaler,” Raven swallows thickly. “It’s in my backpack, in the--,”

“Front left pocket, I know,” Octavia breathes out, already digging through the black and white bag at the foot of Raven’s bed. Her words shake Raven, a sudden reminder of how things used to be, but she slowly takes the inhaler when Octavia holds it out to her. The other girl looks down to her feet, hearing the telltale hiss and Raven’s sharp inhale. Clearing her throat, Raven pounds a fist against her chest and slaps the small device back into Octavia’s outstretched palm. A _“thanks”_ is mumbled in passing.

Octavia pauses after she’s secured Raven’s things into her bag, lingering with her back turned to the girl. A million different thoughts race through her head, and on a last minutes whim, she yanks the zipper shut and hastily turns around to face the girl.

“I saved your life.”

Raven jumps. “Wha…?”

“I saved your life,” Octavia repeats the words she’s blurted out, her hands shaking at her sides. “And you’re just gonna sit here and pretend I’m some… some _stranger?”_ She shakes her head, half disbelief, half desperation.

Raven just stares at her with wide eyes, taken off guard. Her mouth opens and closes but she fails to find the right words. However, before Raven even has the chance to defend herself, the silence that passes between the two sends Octavia into a panic, shaking her head and scrambling back up into her bunk. The splintered wood scratches against the wall and Octavia dives to bury her head in her pillow. The room grows silent--eerily so, and Octavia’s heart pounds against her chest, thumping against her eardrums. She curls her fingers into her sheets.

“You’re no stranger,” a voice appears from beneath her, strangled and distant. “Sometimes I wish you were.”

 

* * *

 

“Okay, think about this one,” Costia clears her throat, tossing a tennis ball up and down with one hand. It makes a hollow _‘thunk’_ noise every time she catches it, a steady rhythm that always seems to follow her. “Fuck marry kill--Rachel, Monica, or Phoebe,” she raises a proud eyebrow after presenting her challenge.

Humming in acknowledgement, Clarke gazes up at the sky as she thinks it over. She’s laid back on a hammock, squeezed in between both Lexa and Costia. There’s a slight breeze, and the sun peeks through the leaves above them in fragments, spotting their skin with blurry puzzle pieces of light. Clarke thinks she could lay like this forever, with the gentle swing of the hammock to lull her to sleep.

“Kill Monica,” Clarke speaks up, holding up a finger. Costia tosses her black hair out of her face as she turns to listen to the girl.

“Now it’s between Rachel or Phoebe,” she nods, letting the tennis ball slip out of her hand and bounce across the ground.

Clarke purses her lips and glances over to Lexa, who seems to be lost in her own little world, plucking petals off a flower and letting them fall onto her stomach. One of her feet hangs idly off the hammock, her toes brushing the ground every so often to keep them moving. Her curly hair is down, splayed out beneath her, and a content smile tugs at the corners of her lips. She doesn’t notice Clarke’s staring, and it’s the most at peace Clarke’s ever seen the girl.

Costia kicks Clarke’s foot with her own, effectively snapping her out of her trance. Clarke turns back to look at her, ignoring the teasing smile on her friend’s lips and instead kicking her back.

“Fuck…” she hums, wiggling her jaw back and forth as she tries to make her decision. “I’d fuck…”

“Rachel, obviously.”

Both Costia and Clarke whip their heads around to look at Lexa, who doesn’t even send a glance in their direction. She’s still twirling the stem of the flower between two fingers, nudging the ground below them with the ball of her foot.

“What?” she tilts her head to the side once she feels two pairs of eyes burning into her. Her gaze slowly moves away from the flower she’s holding, looking to Clarke inquisitively.

“Rachel?” Clarke quirks an eyebrow. Lexa simply shrugs.

“Marry Phoebe, and… _you know_ … Rachel,” her cheeks flush slightly and her gaze shifts back to the flower. She lets it dangle down from her fingers so it hangs just inches above her nose, her eyes crossing slightly to focus on it.

“Got a thing against blondes?” Costia speaks up, nudging Clarke with her knee and enjoying the glare she receives in response. Lexa furrows her eyebrows.

“I married the blonde,” Lexa contests. Her eyes flutter down to where she and Clarke’s arms are touching, pressed up against one another, and shyly pulls hers away. When she looks back up, Clarke raises a questioning eyebrow, but Lexa’s eyes quickly dart back to her flower.

“Anyway,” Costia speaks up, clearing her throat to break the silence. “I was thinking we should talk to Raven.”

“About what?” Clarke questions. Beside her, Lexa props herself up with one elbow, looking to Costia curiously.

“You know what,” Costia narrows her eyes. “She hasn’t said a word about it all week. And I know it hurts her. She was nearly in tears this morning just from having to get out of bed.” Lexa’s quick to nod in agreement.

Clarke’s face falls slightly at the image of her close friend in so much pain. She’s known Raven for years, seen her bounce back from every loss, every failure. But this is different. This is bigger than a tough loss in the butterfly stroke. Costia’s seen it, too.

“She won’t talk to us,” Clarke sighs. “You know well enough there’s only one person who can draw it out of her.”

_“Octavia,”_ Costia nods, slowly drawing out the syllables in the girl’s name. “But she’s…” she motions with her hand, trying to collect the right words. “They’re…”

“Enemies?” Lexa offers, chiming in. Clarke glances to her.

“Something like that,” Costia mumbles, her hand dropping onto her stomach in defeat. Clarke sighs heavily and lets her head rest back against the hammock, with Lexa following suit.

“When me and my brother used to fight, my mom would lock us on the balcony until we made up,” Lexa speaks up absentmindedly, dragging the stem of the flower up and down her arm. “It was always resolved in time for dinner.”

Lexa doesn’t see the exchange of glances between Clarke and Costia--the thoughtful raise of Costia’s eyebrow, the way Clarke’s lips purse together pensively. But she does feel the hammock shift, Cosita nodding and sitting up to look over at Lexa with a devious smile on her face.

“You might just be on the right track.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> costia's got a plan (like always)
> 
> more of lexa's backstory was revealed in this chapter and in the next chapter, we learn a bit about someone else's backstory (which comes as quite a shock to someone). 
> 
> leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

“I mean, did you _see_ that pitch? There was no way--,”

_“Ew.”_

Octavia’s single word cuts Costia off. She skids to a stop at the edge of the clearing as soon as she realizes where they’ve walked to, the heels of her bare feet digging into the packed ground. They’re on the same path campers have walked many times before--staring straight ahead at the rustic red train car tangled in vines. It makes Octavia shiver.

Before she can say anything else, though, Costia’s clapped her hands together and is already sliding down the small hill. She jumps down to the ground, looking over her shoulder expectantly.

“What the fuck are you trying to initiate?”

“Nothing,” Costia scoffs, a hand on her hip. “Come on, I just want to explore.”

“I don’t trust you,” Octavia huffs, shaking her head half-heartedly. She hasn’t quite been the same since her interaction with Raven a night or so ago, and although Costia doesn’t know exactly what’s happened, she’s observed her friend falling deeper and deeper into her funk, a frown etched permanently on her face.

Octavia gives in and stumbles down after her friend, a collection of pebbles barreling down in her wake. Costia’s already halfway across the clearing by the time Octavia catches up with her.

“How do you think this hunk of metal even got here?” Costia slaps her palm against the side of the cart, making the entire structure rock back and forth, creaking eerily. Octavia slows to a stop, crossing her arms and watching as Costia teeters on her tiptoes to peer in the windows.

“Someone threw it out, probably,” Octavia mutters in passing. Given her rocky history with this place, doesn’t exactly have the fondest affinity for it. Costia continues studying the cart, pulling aside vines and dusting dirt from the windows.

“You ever been down here with someone before?” Costia uses both hands to yank open the sliding door, metal screeching against rusted metal. Octavia flinches.

“No, ew,” she bites back defiantly. Costia simply ignores her attitude and swings up into the cart, motioning for Octavia to follow.

“I don’t like where this is going,” Octavia glares up at her, her feet planted firmly in the ground. Costia’s playful smile slowly fades and she rolls her eyes at the girl, growing tired of her incessant negativity.

“C’mon, O, don’t be such a deadbeat,” Costia whines, dramatically slumping against the cart’s doorframe. “Out of everyone, I’m the last person that’s gonna try and make a move on you. You know that.”

“I hate you,” Octavia sighs, grabbing onto the rusted handle of the door and letting Costia grip her other arm to pull her up. Bare feet thump against the scratchy wooden floor, and Octavia brushes her hands on her jeans as her eyes scan the small room. She swallows heavily as the memories come rushing back--the feel of her bare back pressed against that same rough floor, directly after it had been clothed and taut against the jagged metal siding of the cart. Raven’s hands in her hair, Raven’s lips dancing around her own, Raven’s fingers--

“We should’ve done something way cooler with this place instead of letting it become some sex dungeon,” Costia’s words snap Octavia from her thoughts. She tries to shake the memories off, peeling her eyes from the floor and watching as Costia whacks spiderwebs from the corners of the ceiling, coughing and sputtering when dust rains down on her.

“Sex dungeon may be a strong word,” Octavia comments, tossing the girl the flannel she’d tied around her waist. Costia nods in thanks and uses it to wipe off her face, crinkling her nose in distaste.

“But just imagine the possibilities, O,” Costia lets her hands fall down to her sides for emphasis, flannel smacking against the wooden floor. She turns in a circle to study the small room. “We could hang up lights, lay down blankets, bring--,”

“You said you got this from Murphy, right?”

A voice appears from outside. Costia and Octavia both whip their heads around to look at one another, and within seconds they’re scrambling to duck down and out of sight. Octavia holds her breath as the footsteps approach.

“I mean, the last time I bought from Murphy, he tried to roll me a joint of _oregano_. You know? Like the kitchen spice? That was back in eighth grade, but…”

The voice fades out the moment two pairs of footsteps join them the cart, one taking slightly longer than the other. Octavia slowly lifts her head, her heart dropping in her chest as soon as her eyes meet Raven’s. Clarke stands next to her, but she appears nowhere near as shocked as Raven does. It’s Raven who stands frozen, hands dangling at her sides, mouth slightly agape.

During the awkward silence, Octavia’s heart pounds against her chest. She wouldn’t be surprised if they could hear it. But she can be the bigger person, she tells herself. She doesn’t have to show weakness.

“We’ll go,” she speaks up coldly, rising to her feet. Her eyes never travel to Raven--her gaze remains solely on Clarke. However, before she can even take a single step towards the door, Clake’s abandoning ship and leaping from the cart, with Costia ducking under Octavia’s arm to sprint after her. It’s only when the heavy metal door slams shut, violently rocking the floor beneath them, that Octavia realizes what’s happened.

“We’re doing you a favor!” Costia’s voice echoes from outside, the tell-tale thump of the heavy latch on the door making Octavia wince. She scrambles to the small window, immediately locking eyes with Clarke. She glares at the girl, but silently pleads with her. This is the last thing she needs.

“We’re tired to playing mediator between you two,” Clarke’s voice is softer than Costia’s, but still loud enough to be heard. “Just try to work it out, will you?” she takes a step forward. “It’s our last summer together and we want it to be a good one.”

“Yeah, and so far you’re ruining it for everyone else,” Costia tilts her chin upwards, effortlessly ignoring Octavia’s burning glare. “And yourselves. So stop being stupid and fix your shit.”

And with that, Costia’s off, disappearing back into the woods. Clarke’s eyes follow her, and she takes a few steps backward before looking to the window where Octavia stands. “It’s for your own good,” she meets her eyes sympathetically. “We’ll be back later tonight.”

Octavia watches from the window until Clarke’s blonde head of hair is out of sight. It’s dead silent for a moment, but then Octavia’s fist is flying through the window, making Raven flinch as glass shards splinter and scatter around their feet.

“If I try hard enough, I crawl through and open the door,” Octavia starts to pace, shaking her head as she talks to herself. She doesn’t even address the window she’s just broken. There’s too many thoughts running through her head--about anything _but_ the girl standing right in front of her.

“Octavia…”

“Or if that doesn’t work, I could… I could build something to reach the lock from the inside.”

“Octavia,” Raven tries again, but it’s to no avail. The girl just keeps pacing back and forth.

“Or maybe, if I’m strong enough, I could--,”

 _“Octavia!”_ Raven gives in, raising her voice and throwing her hands down to her sides in frustration. Her voice echoes around the small room, reverberating off the metal walls and sending Octavia stumbling backwards.

She looks to Raven with wide eyes, breathing out a startled _“what?”_

“Your hand,” Raven motions weakly, sending a soft nod in the girl’s direction. Slowly, Octavia looks down, her lip curling in distaste when she sees the trails of blood dripping down from her right fist. Her eyes fall shut and she draws in a deep breath.

Without saying anything, she snatches her flannel from where it lays crumpled on the floor and tugs it tight around her fist, holding it in place with her free hand. And then, as if nothing’s happened, she presses both hands against her stomach and resumes pacing.

“I’ll get them back for this, I swear,” she mutters under her breath, dragging her feet and causing Raven to wince every time she nearly steps on a piece of broken glass. Raven opens her mouth to say something, anything--but Octavia doesn’t even notice.

“There’s gotta be a loose floorboard we can pry up,” Octavia finally looks to Raven, her expression hopeful. But Raven’s eyes are filled with anything but hope.

“You really think that’ll work?” she quirks an eyebrow at Octavia, who suddenly wants nothing more than to disappear under the girl’s stern gaze. But she does her best to swallow her fear.

“We could at least try,” she offers with a shrug.

“Or we could talk…”

Raven’s words catch Octavia completely off guard. Her head shoots up and she looks to the girl in utter confusion.

“Talk,” Raven nods to her and raises both eyebrows. Her words seem pretty obvious. “You know, like they wanted us to do in the first place?”

“And what good would that do?” Octavia bites back defensively.

“Oh, _I don’t know, Octavia,_ ” Raven rolls her eyes, sarcasm laced in her words. “Maybe fix whatever the hell’s going on between us?” She motions haphazardly to the both of them.

“Can it even _be_ fixed?” Octavia’s tone grows colder, her eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know,” Raven quirks an eyebrow, almost teasingly. “Can it?”

Octavia feels anger boiling deep in her gut, her fists curling and uncurling. She ignores the pain searing through her knuckles and plants her feet firmly on the floor. “That’s not really my question to answer,” she grits her teeth. “Considering _you’re_ the one who’s been avoiding me since the moment you showed up.”

Raven’s eyes hold her stare, just as cold and icy as her own. It sends shivers down Octavia’s spine, but she refuses to look away. She’s finally mustered up the courage to voice how she really feels. Backing down in the heat of the moment is the last thing she needs to do.

“If we’re being fair, you didn’t make it that hard for me to stay away,” Raven tilts her chin upwards. “I didn’t see _you_ making any effort.”

“I made an effort,” Octavia crosses her arms. “I went out of my way to _avoid_ you. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?”

“How would you know what I wanted?”

“You were avoiding _me_ ,” Octavia hisses, avoiding the question and jamming her finger into her chest when she points to herself. Raven stares at her for a few moments, her mind still trying to process whatever’s unfolding between them.

“We’re getting nowhere with this,” Raven eventually sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose, leaning back until she hits the wall. She’s tired of fighting. Octavia remains standing, her eyes following Raven as she sits down, her braced leg sprawling out to lie stiff in front of her.

Octavia stays frozen for a few moments, her eyes fixated on Raven, whose head rests weakly in her hands. Eventually, with a defeated sigh, she slumps down to sit against the wall across from the girl. But Raven doesn’t make a move to acknowledge her.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Octavia finally mumbles, her arms hugged tight around her legs, curling up to take up as little space as possible. “We both know what happened.”

“What _did_ happen?” Raven lifts her head, her voice softer, more curious. It’s only then that Octavia realizes just how exhausted she appears. She hasn’t been sleeping. It worries her more than it should.

“We had sex and you ran away,” Octavia’s curt, not flinching. She even raps her fist against the floor for good measure, reminding her of just _where_ the events had unfolded. Raven, however, tenses at the girl’s blunt callousness. The roles in the room now seem to have shifted. Octavia’s got nothing to lose.

“I was scared,” Raven admits in a feeble attempt to defend herself, bringing a hand up to cup the back of her neck. Octavia takes this as an opening, a chance to push past Raven’s hesitancy.

“Of what?”

A shaky sigh escapes Raven’s lips and she finally tears her gaze away from Octavia’s. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Her mumbled words hit Octavia like a punch to the gut, rendering her speechless. Maybe she’s been too optimistic. Of course she’d been hopeful. Of course she’d kept herself up at night, wondering if Raven secretly _did_ return her feelings. But now, her words form a lump in the back of her throat. For Raven--that night had been just as meaningless as her own kiss with Costia--just a stupid little thing friends do.

But now Octavia’s faced with a choice. Whatever happened between them--it had meant more to Octavia, and she thinks it always will, but being friends with Raven is something. And at this point, she supposes _something_ is better than nothing at all.

(She can’t have nothing at all. She’s tried.)

“You could never do that,” she finally speaks, her words soft as her eyes fall down to her hands. “It’s Octavia and Raven against the world, remember?” She looks up just in time to see a small smile tugging at the girl’s lips.

“I’m sorry,” Raven breathes out, just as fed up with the fighting as Octavia is. “For not writing and shit. And cutting you off.”

Octavia just shrugs. “What done is done.” She tugs her hurt hand into her lap, wrapping her other fingers tight around it and squeezing until it hurts. “M’sorry too, by the way. I guess I haven’t been a very good friend to you either.”

“Then we’re even,” Raven laughs softly and looks to Octavia from across the room. She pauses for a moment, her lips pursing in concern. “How’s the hand?”

“Can’t feel it,” Octavia holds it up and lets it fall back into her lap. “How’s the…?” she pauses, her eyes darting down to Raven’s brace for a split second, just long enough to clue Raven in on her curiousity. The girl lets out a heavy sigh, defeated. There’s no place for her to run and hide.

“I guess you and I have a lot of catching up to do.”

 

* * *

  

Raven feels exposed. Too exposed for her own good. Sitting here in the train car with Octavia only a few feet away from her makes her shrink down, smaller than she’s felt in a long time. Because Octavia knows Raven. And if there’s anyone who can see straight through the defenses she’s built up, it’s her.

“I don’t know where to start,” Raven admits, her hands toying anxiously with the hem of her shirt. “Just… ask me something,” she weakly motions to the girl across from her, hoping she won’t have to say much else.

Octavia purses her lips together, running through the list of questions she’s collected over the past few days. She’d drown Raven in them if she could, but the girl is visibly nervous. So Octavia settles for the obvious question that’s been on everyone’s minds, including her own. She sighs softly and shyly motions to Raven’s leg. “What… what _happened?”_

“Got shot,” Raven blurts out before she can second guess herself. She immediately sees Octavia’s shock--the way she tenses up, her eyes shooting wide open. She tries her best to ignore it. She doesn’t want sympathy.

“You’re kidding, right?” Octavia shakes her head in disbelief. That had been the last thing she’d expected. “You live in the _suburbs_ ,” she reminds the girl, furrowing her eyebrows. Is she missing something?

But Raven just laughs bitterly. “Like I said,” her voice grows quieter, weaker. “A lot of catching up to do.” She can feel Octavia’s eyes on her, searching desperately for more answers, but she wants to curl up in a ball and hide. With everyone else, it’s easy to brush things off. But it’s different with Octavia. It always has been.

“What are you talking about?”

All Raven can do to avoid breaking down is look away, a shaky breath escaping her lips. “I’ve been lying to you--to everyone,” she closes her eyes. “For nine years.”

“Raven…”

“Just let me finish,” Raven blurts out, a little too forcefully. Octavia quickly sits back against the wall, clamping her jaw shut and giving Raven a slow nod, urging her to continue.

“I just wanted to be normal,” Raven’s voice is a broken whisper, lingering between them for a few long seconds. “Just… just try to forget everything I’ve told you in the past… let me start over.” All she receives from Octavia is a hesitant nod.

“I don’t live in a nice neighborhood,” Raven admits. “I don’t live with my parents. Never have,” she pauses to let out a deep breath. “I’ve told you about Anya, right?”

“Your sister?” Octavia asks quietly.

“Well, kind of,” Raven swallows, drowning in her own guilt. “She’s _like_ a sister. But… not biologically.”

Octavia’s eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, but she remains quiet, much to Raven’s relief. She nods again, giving the girl her full attention, her eyes gentle and full of concern.

“She pretty much raised me,” Raven breathes out. “She grew up on the streets, too. Knew what it was like,” she nods, swallowing her nervousness. “She doesn’t tell me much about where I came from, you know? All I know is a bunch of her friends took me in. Like a gang, but… raising a kid,” she looks down. “I have more aunts and uncles than I can count.”

“You’re serious?”

“Why else do you think I was always so excited to come to camp?” Raven eyes her questioningly. “Growing up in West Oakland was rough. So many opportunities to ruin your life,” her eyes flutter down to the ground. “I’ve seen some of the kids I grew up with go down the wrong path. Dead. Or worse.”

“But you’re so…” Octavia trails off, motioning vaguely to the girl. Raven chuckles, her eyes sad.

“Anya kept me out of it, for the most part,” she nods. “All her friends that came around were dealers, though. She did it sometimes too. But only when she really needed the money.”

“And, I mean, the lifestyle didn’t exactly spare me, either,” Raven raps her knuckles against her brace. Octavia tenses up. “T’was a drive-by. I guess I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Octavia sits up straighter, a mixture of hurt and concern flickering in her eyes. A breathy _“oh my god,”_ is all she can manage. Everything Raven’s told her in the past has suddenly dissipated, replaced by a rawer version of the truth.

“I got lucky,” Raven shrugs. “The other guy that was hit didn’t make it. But they didn’t get who they were after. He wasn’t even with us.”

Octavia mutters something under her breath, most likely a string of profanities. And when Raven looks back up moments later, she’s startled when Octavia’s suddenly kneeling in front of her, leaning forward and desperately tugging her into a hug.

 _“I’m so sorry,”_ the girl whispers shakily, her words muffled against her shoulder. Raven tries to blink away the tears that have formed in her eyes, but ends up just squeezing them shut, so tightly that stars dance across the insides of her eyelids. Her hands slowly come up to grasp onto Octavia, realizing just how familiar and comforting the girl feels. Neither of them makes a move to let go, and Raven honestly doesn’t mind. She stays just like that, arms tight around the girl, breathing in the smell that is so familiar--so Octavia. She feels like home, in every aspect of the word, and hugging her feels like the tranquil silence after a violent rainstorm. Anya has always said Octavia was Raven’s guardian angel, and Raven’s starting to wonder the true weight of her words.

Octavia’s the one who finally breaks the embrace, leaning back to sit on her heels. Her eyes simply search Raven’s for a few moments, quiet and curious, her head tilting to the side ever so slightly. Raven fights the urge to hide from her knowing gaze.

“Why would you lie?” Octavia finally speaks up, her voice soft and gentle. She bows her head, strands of hair falling down around her shoulders. There’s a look of hurt on her face and Raven’s forced to peel her eyes away. It makes her feel too guilty.

“It wasn’t anything against _you,_ personally,” Raven nods to the girl, keeping her gaze glued to her lap, where she picks nervously at her nails. “I just wanted to be normal,” she half whispers, almost as if she’s talking to herself. “Just wanted everyone to think I lived in a nice little house with both of my parents. That’s not too much to ask for, is it?” she lets the question hang between them, biting her lip when she feels Octavia’s eyes pleading with her own, willing her to look up.

“I just don’t understand why you never told _me_ ,” Octavia says softly, her shoulders rising and falling in a weak shrug. “You know I wouldn’t care.”

“I told you, I just wanted to be normal,” Raven shakes her head. “If I really wanted to lie, I would’ve conjured up some big story about rich parents and private school and fancy vacations… but I didn’t,” she swallows thickly. “Camp was always my escape. A safe place, you know? I didn’t want to bring all that bad shit with me,” she pauses, her voice falling to a soft whisper. “I just wanted to be normal.”

Octavia mentally begs Raven to look at her, but her head remains hanging downward, her expression unreadable. The younger girl’s figure slumps, sighing softly.

“You’ve never been _just normal_ to me, Raven.”

Her words, gentle and reflective, finally prompt Raven to look at her, loose strands of hair dangling down from her ponytail as she slowly lifts her head. Their eyes meet and Octavia offers her the saddest of smiles.

“What do you mean?” Raven whispers, her eyebrows slowly stitching together. She watches Octavia’s eyes slowly move down to her lap, shrugging feebly.

“M’just saying,” Octavia mumbles. “We’ve been friends for nine years. You’re a whole lot of other things besides normal.”

“Like what?” Raven can’t help but ask.

Octavia purses her lips in thought. “Smart,” she shrugs, starting to list them off on her fingers. “Loyal, Thoughtful, Funny, Bold…” she pauses for a moment, idly wringing out her hands. “Strong.”

Raven inhales slowly, holding it tight in her chest and pleading with herself to stay calm. “Thanks,” she whispers, her head falling back down to her lap. “I just… _thanks.”_

“Can I ask any more questions?” Octavia blurts out abruptly, leaning forward on her knees. Raven raises an eyebrow at her, hoping she’ll change her mind. But she owes her this, Raven realizes. So, she eventually sighs and holds up two fingers.

“Two more,” she nods once. “That’s all I think I can handle.”

“Got it,” Octavia runs a hand through her dark hair, tossing it aside. “So,” she clears her throat awkwardly. “Does it hurt? Your leg?” she motions to the girl shyly, noting the way Raven’s shoulders tense, her good leg inching closer to her brace, itching to cover it up.

“Depends, I guess,” Raven draws her bottom lip between her teeth. “Doctor said it was paralyzed, and I can’t move it, but… it still hurts.” She offers the girl a sad smile. “Could’ve been worse, though.”

As she watches the way Octavia’s expression falls while she speaks, how her lips curve into a frown, concern flickering in her eyes, Raven wants nothing more than to have some good news to offer the girl. But the last few months of her life have been completely devoid of any good in general, she realizes, the thought making her eyes sting with tears.  

“One more question,” Raven adds, clearing her throat to try and destroy the awkward silence, to keep Octavia from feeling sorry for her. “You’ve got one more. Choose wisely.”

Raven’s not expecting the next string of words that leave Octavia’s mouth. She’s expecting the girl to drill her on why she’s been so distant, or why she hadn’t written over the school year, or even just ignore her rules altogether and drown her in hundreds of questions. But what she doesn’t expect, is for the girl to simply extend her hand, meeting Raven’s gaze with a shy smile.

“Friends?”

Taken aback, Raven’s eyes dart back and forth from Octavia’s hand to her face, her head cocking to the side. “That’s it?” she looks to her in confusion. “That’s your last question?”

“It’s all that matters, isn’t it?” Octavia nods to the girl, her hand still open and waiting between them. Something washes over Raven, and she’s not sure what it is, but she can’t help but smile when she reaches out and takes Octavia’s hand. Instead of shaking it, however, she catches Octavia by surprise when she pulls her into another hug, arms wrapping tightly around the girl.

“Friends,” Raven nods against her shoulder. And when she hears Octavia mumble a “ _best_ friends,” in response, they’re suddenly eight years old again, whisked back to the height of the summer--tongues blue from too many popsicles, flip flop tans and messy braids. It’s all too easy--all too comforting to fall back into this familiar routine.

But something’s different, Raven realizes when the hug pulls apart and Octavia laughs softly, her eyes bright with relief. Something’s different, and she’s yet to figure out what it is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter took so long to post. i went up to boston to tour emerson college (holy shit it's amazing). but anyway. leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	6. Chapter 6

“The grand reveal,” Costia whispers to herself, glancing back to Clarke, who holds a finger to her lips to warn the girl to keep quiet. They inch closer to the train car, eyes and ears peeled for any signs of life from within. But soon, Costia’s fingers deftly wrap around the rusted handle of the door, and she counts down in her head before yanking it open. Both girls cringe at the screeching sound of the old metal, but quickly recover when they come face to face with an empty room. Clarke and Costia immediately exchange confused glances.

“This can’t be good,” Clarke mumbles to herself, following Costia as she climbs up into the cart. There’s no trace of Octavia or Raven, but they both notice the broken window, its glass still littering the splintered floor. Costia curses under her breath.

“Where could they have g--?”

As soon as the cart starts to rumble, Costia’s cut off, looking to Clarke with wide eyes. They don’t have time to react, but they both realize exactly what’s happening the moment they turn around. The door slams shut within seconds--effectively trapping them before they even had a chance to escape. While Clarke starts to freak out, shaking her head in disbelief, Costia’s expression turns cold and she slowly crosses the room. She peers out the window just in time to catch Octavia and Raven high-fiving from the grass below.

“What the hell, Blake?”

Octavia looks up to the window with a playful smile on her face, crossing her arms. “It was Raven’s idea,” she nods to the girl next to her.

“How the hell did you manage to escape?” Costia glares at the two of them. Moments later, though, she’s shoved out of view and Clarke’s face appears, popping out of the window.

“Does this mean y’all made up?” she asks hopefully, quirking an eyebrow. Raven and Octavia exchange amused glances.

“Something like that,” Raven nods once.

“So our plan worked,” Clarke smirks. Octavia just rolls her eyes, crossing her arms.

“Your plan was poorly executed,” she shakes her head. It feels all too good to have fallen back into their friendly competition. But before she can say anything else, they’re interrupted.

“You fucking sneak!” Cosita appears out of nowhere, sprinting up from behind and jumping onto Octavia’s back, throwing her arms around her neck. “You loosened the floorboards!”

Octavia stumbles a few steps backward, trying to shake the girl from her shoulders. Eventually, though, they both wind up losing their balance, the soft grass catching their fall. Octavia groans, cursing under breath rolling onto her back. However Costia just scoffs, ruffling her friend’s hair and punching her shoulder. “I can’t believe you,” she rolls her eyes. The girl pauses, however, when her gaze lands on Octavia’s hand.

“What happened?” she grabs the girl’s hand and furrows her eyebrows. “Did you…?” she glances up to Raven in concern, instinctively checking for bruises. Meanwhile, something knocks from inside the cart, causing Raven to chuckle and hurry over to free Clarke.

“The window,” Octavia shakes her head and tugs her hand out of Costia’s grip. “It’s nothing. We’re fine now.”

“You and Raven?” Costia raises an eyebrow once they’re alone.

“Back to normal,” Octavia nods, hopping back to her feet and brushing her hands off on her pants. But Costia’s still suspicious.

“Normal?”

“Yeah…?” Octavia looks to her in confusion. “As in we’re friends again? That okay with you?”

Costia just nods quickly, eventually rising to her feet and watching as Octavia jogs back over to where Clarke and Raven stand. However, Costia stays put, thinking back to her discovery at the tree, her eyebrows slowly stitching together. “Friends?” she whispers to herself, confusion washing over her in waves. “ _Just_ friends?” 

 

* * *

 

“And now they’re friends again,” Clarke nods in finality, falling into a slow stroll beside Lexa as they funnel outside the mess hall, the crowd buzzing with excitement around them. “All because of your idea.”

“Well,” Lexa shrugs, looking down at the apple she’s saved from dinner, cupping it in her hands. “Technically it was Costia’s idea.”

“But if it wasn’t for you, she never would’ve thought of it,” Clarke reminds her. Lexa just hums a low note and shrugs, taking a bite of her apple. Comfortable silence falls over them and she kicks a pebble while they make the hike to the girls’ cabins, diverging from the rest of the campers.

The temperatures have started to drop at night, and a cold breeze rustles through the trees, making Lexa shiver and hug her arms around her torso. Clarke immediately notices, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Here,” she unties her sweatshirt from around her waist, shaking it out and laying it over Lexa’s shoulders. The girl’s hands quickly come up to hold it around around herself, her eyes slowly fluttering over to find Clarke’s.

“Thanks,” Lexa whispers, quickly glancing away to hide the blush that stings at her cheeks. Her eyes dart down to her feet, a shy smile tugging at her lips that she struggles to hide.

“Wanna see something?” Clarke stops in her tracks, glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one’s following them. Lexa opens her mouth to question her, but by then she’s already ducked under the branches on the edge of the path. She raises an eyebrow at Lexa, almost testing her. “Follow me.”

Motioning to the girl one last time, Clarke disappears into the brush. Lexa bites her lip, teetering nervously on her toes and looking around before sighing in defeat. She snakes her arms through the arms of Clarke’s sweatshirt and hurries after the girl, trying to ignore the overwhelming smell of the other girl’s shampoo.

“Wait up,” Lexa calls out weakly, her flip flops crushing against the floor of the forest, sticks snagging against her ankles. Clarke stops walking, leaning against a tree as Lexa jogs over to her, out of breath.

“Where are we going?” Lexa asks nervously once they start walking again, tripping over branches as she hurries to stay with Clarke. Eventually, she ends up reaching out to grab onto the girl’s sleeve, bunching the fabric in her fist in an effort to keep up.

“You’ll see.”

“I’ll see?” Lexa purses her lips anxiously.

“It’s called a surprise, isn’t it?” Clarke raises an eyebrow, waiting a beat before she nudges Lexa’s shoulder with a playful laugh. She holds up a branch and nods for Lexa to duck underneath, following suit. “So, like I said, _you’ll see_ ,” she meets Lexa’s eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Lexa remains silent, but nods slowly.

“I don’t typically enjoy surprises,” Lexa half mumbles. The further they travel into the forest, the quicker her heart beats against her chest. And the darker it gets. Are they lost? She knows there’s no way she’ll be able to find her way back to the camp on her own. She’s forced to trust that Clarke knows what she’s doing.

“Everyone likes surprises,” Clarke shrugs, climbing atop a large rock to fumble with the laces on her shoes. Lexa stumbles to a stop a few feet away, tugging at the extra-long sleeves of her sweatshirt. She’s small for her age, and the time spent at her previous “camp” hadn’t exactly helped her appetite. She clasps her fingers together.

“I’m not like everyone,” she mutters, swinging her foot back and kicking a pebble. It bounces a few times before coming to rest near the exposed roots of a tree.

Upon hearing her words, Clarke finishes tying her shoe, lifts her head, and looks to Lexa with an amused smile tugging at her lips, as if she’s just had an epiphany of her own. “I know,” she nods once, blowing a strand of hair from her face and raising an eyebrow at Lexa. “Come on. We’re almost there.”

And so Lexa keeps quiet, maintaining her pace beside Clarke. Somewhere along the way she gives in and kicks off her flip flops. The time she’s spent at camp has made her accustomed to going barefooted, her shoes dangling idly from her pinky fingers.

“About 75 years ago, this was all underwater,” Clarke speaks up, using both hands to motion around them. She slows her pace so she can walk beside Lexa, waiting for the girl’s reaction, which comes as the slight raise of an eyebrow. “They say what’s left of the lake will be gone in the next fifty or so.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yup,” Clarke hums, making a sudden turn and causing Lexa to nearly fall as she hurries to follow her, keeping a cautious eye on the treetops above them. “We’d be in water up to our knees right about now,” Clarke kicks a pile of leaves and hops over a thick tree branch. “And in about twenty feet, we’d be right on the shoreline.”

Lexa tilts her head to the side. “So this is the surprise?” Maybe she’s too hopeful.

“You wish,” Clarke laughs and rolls her eyes. _“Like I said...”_ she continues, leaving her words open ended and grabbing Lexa’s wrist. She leads them under a collection of thick branches that has Lexa coughing and sputtering on pine needles when they stand back up on the other side. She shakes her head, batting them out of her hair.

 _“...The shore,”_ Clarke finishes with a nod, bumping Lexa’s shoulder with her own to make the girl look upwards. Suddenly, the pine needles in her hair are forgotten as Lexa’s eyes land on the structure in front of them. They stand on the edge of a large clearing, and towering over their heads is a faded lighthouse, peeling red and white stripes wrapped around it. Lexa’s mouth falls open.

“Cool, right?” Clarke hops down onto the soft grass, so long and thin that it’s almost translucent in the sunlight. As Lexa steps down, the ground is much more forgiving under her feet than the uneven forest floor had been. She takes a moment wiggles her toes in it.

“How’d you know about this place?” she finally speaks up after scanning every inch of their surroundings. It looks like a scene straight out of a children’s book, she decides.

“My dad found it a while ago,” Clarke nods, kicking off her shoes and running a hand through her tousled hair. “Not many people know about it. Only a select few. And now you, of course,” she smiles. “Come on.”

Lexa’s eyes widen when Clarke turns back toward the lighthouse. “Woah, woah, wait,” she sputters, taking a step forward and shaking her head. “You want us to go _inside?”_

“More like _up_ , but… yeah,” Clarke nods with a shrug. “Why? _Scared?”_ She raises a teasing eyebrow, to which Lexa scrambles to shake her head, curly hair whipping around her shoulders.

 _“No,”_ she quips back defensively, hurrying after Clarke as she picks up into a brisk walk. “I just… it’s getting dark,” she pauses, grass swishing against her bare legs. She looks around nervously. “Aren’t old places like this supposed to be haunted?”

Clarke pauses to look back at Lexa, amused. “I thought scientologists don’t believe in that stuff?”

“They don’t, I think,” Lexa shakes her head to dismiss the thought. “I just watch too many paranormal shows,” she admits, looking down to hide her smile when Clarke laughs. The blonde tosses her hair over her shoulder and pauses in the entryway of the large structure, her feet slapping against the cold concrete.

“I’ll scare all the ghosts away,” Clarke promises, nodding in finality and grabbing Lexa’s wrist once more. Lexa has no choice but to follow the girl up the winding staircase, praying that it doesn’t cave underneath their combined weight. And just when she thinks she’s going to collapse from exhaustion, Clarke slides to a stop at the top of the stairs. Lexa nearly slams into her.

“Woah,” Lexa breathes out. Clarke quietly lets go of her wrist to move forward, pressing her palms against the murky colored glass. Lexa, however, hangs back near the stairs, still unaccustomed to heights. Just looking to the windows makes her legs feel shaky. She can’t deny the view, though. Even though the old glass blurs their surroundings, they can see _everything_. Lexa can just barely make out the lake in the distance.

Clarke turns around to look at Lexa, leaving smudged prints on the glass when she peels her hands away. “Don’t like heights?” she questions, noticing the girl’s hesitancy.

The girl purses her lips. “You _like_ them?”

“I used to be scared,” Clarke shrugs. “Wasn’t worth my time, though. So now I’m not.”

“If only it were that easy.”

“Why can’t it be?” Clarke’s lips curve into a smile. Lexa quickly tears her eyes away, shyly looking down to her feet and curling her toes against the cold ground.

“Heights or no heights, the view is amazing,” Clarke adds, taking a step backwards and motioning to the space beside her, raising a hopeful eyebrow at the girl.

“Of course it is,” Lexa breathes out, nodding quickly. And so, swallowing her fear, she takes a cautious step forward. She’s had her fingers curled around the large metal cage in the middle of the room for some sort of stability, but she slowly peels them away. Trying not to look down, she takes another small step so she’s face to face with the glass, her heart pounding against her chest. After a few seconds, she brings her hand up, slowly pressing it flat against where Clarke’s had been, mirroring the girl’s smudged handprint. She takes another deep breath, letting her eyes scan the horizon where the sun’s just started to set.

“Better than gay camp, yeah?” Clarke asks, appearing beside her and making Lexa jump. Her eyes dart away from the scenery and focus on Clarke, who’s looking at her questioningly.

“Yeah,” Lexa whispers without hesitating. She looks back to the window, swallowing thickly. “Definitely.”

Clarke’s eyes follow the girl as she slowly sinks down, sitting back on her heels and using the sleeve of the sweatshirt to wipe a space on the glass. Clarke follows suit, noting how the mood in the room seems to have shifted, losing its lightheartedness.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke nods, kneeling beside the girl. “I don’t know if I said that before, but I am.”

“Sorry for what?” Lexa looks to her with furrowed eyebrows.

“Whatever happened to you,” Clarke shrugs one shoulder. “I imagine it must’ve been hell if it forced you to run.”

Breathing out slowly, Lexa looks away with a careful nod. “I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even my worst enemy,” she shivers.

“I mean, I can’t even imagine,” Clarke admits, trying to wrap her head around it. “All these people trying to tell you that who you are isn’t even… _real,”_ she curls her lip in disgust and shakes her head.

“But…” Lexa breathes deeply, closing her eyes and taking a risk. “But what if… it isn’t?”

“What?”

“I just…” Lexa shakes her head. “Everyone there really believed what they were saying, even some of the other kids,” she pauses, shuddering at the memory. “What if they’re right, you know?” she laughs bitterly, shaking her head. “What if I really am just _diseased?”_ Her voice trembles and she quickly looks away.

“Hey,” Clarke’s suddenly even closer to Lexa, a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t really believe that, do you?” The room grows eerily silent.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” Lexa’s words come out strangled, so quiet that Clarke can barely hear her. She tugs anxiously at the sleeves of her hoodie-- _Clarke’s hoodie_ , and tries to ignore the way Clarke’s hand rests on her shoulder, warm and gentle against her skin. She has to fight the urge to lean into her touch, starved of even something that simple.

“How old were you?”

Lexa looks to Clarke in confusion. “What?”

“You know…” Clarke shrugs. “When you had your… _moment._ How old were you?” She waits patiently, but Lexa just furrows her eyebrows together and tilts her head to the side. Clarke sighs, shaking her head.

“I was twelve,” Clarke speaks up and leans back on her hands. “Soccer camp. Kissed a girl named Emery St. Vincent under the bleachers,” she nods, noting how Lexa immediately looks away. “That’s my moment. When I looked in the mirror and said to myself ‘Oh shit, it’s not _just_ boys.’”

 _“Oh,”_ is all that escapes Lexa’s lips, a quiet whisper drawn out between the two of them, echoing around the space. Her eyes remain trained on the window. The shadows on the floor have started to creep further across the room as the sun begins to disappear. She sees Clarke run her fingers through her hair out of the corner of her eye, her hand coming to cup the back of her neck. Lexa’s thoughts are racing, her heart thumping against her chest.

“Luna Kaiser,” Lexa’s voice is soft when she finally speaks up, taking Clarke by surprise. She nods slowly, watching as Lexa takes a deep breath and forces herself to keep talking. “I was seven. Nothing happened between us, but I just… _really_ liked her,” she laughs sadly at the memory. “I guess I didn’t know what it was… but I knew it was something to hide,” her eyes fall shut. “So that was my moment, I guess. But it was far from the last.”

(She’s still not sure why she’s so scared of what Clarke thinks of her. Hell, Clarke’s bisexual, who why is Lexa so hesitant? Why do the words feel so heavy rolling off of her tongue?)

“Then think of your seven year old self,” Clarke nods, turning to face Lexa. “What she _‘diseased?’_ Would you have sent her off to that camp? Subjected her to that hellhole?”

Clarke can practically see the gears turning in Lexa’s mind. The curly haired girl finally lets her head fall into her hands, whispering a quiet _‘never’_ into empty air.

“I know it takes more than that to reverse everything they’ve drilled into your head, but…” Clarke’s eyes trace over Lexa’s features. “I don’t think it’s a disease. I mean, maybe I”m biased, but when someone feels that way at _seven years old_ , I think that’s pretty much the closest thing to natural you can get.”

Her words echo around the room until it’s dead silent, Lexa’s shaky breathing keeping time between them. When she doesn’t get a response, Clarke slowly moves to sit cross legged, leaning forward and cleaning off a larger space in the glass for the two of them. She pauses when the girl beside her lets out a defeated sigh.

“They’ve turned me into my own worst enemy,” Lexa whispers, her eyelids wrinkling when she squeezes them shut. It’s silent for a moment, and she feels like she’s said too much, too soon. But suddenly, there’s an arm wrapped around her, and Lexa finds that she doesn’t even hesitate to lay her head on Clarke’s shoulder when she pulls her into her side, squeezing her arm reassuringly.

“Maybe this place will change your thinking.”

 

* * *

 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Costia’s voice breaks the comfortable silence that’s fallen upon them. It’s just she and Octavia, sitting on her bunk and tugging off their cleats, brushing them off and letting them thump to the hardwood floor. They’ve just won a game against Bellamy’s team, and both girls are still running on adrenaline. Octavia pauses, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand and raising an eyebrow at Costia. “Huh?”

“Nothing,” Costia shakes her head and kicks off her second shoe. “Just making sure you know that I’m always here… If you ever need advice and shit, you know?”

Octavia sits up slightly to study her friend, sighing in defeat. “What do you want?” she deadpans, assuming there’s a reason for Costia’s odd behavior. Last time the girl did something of the sort, it was because she wanted Octavia to steal the keys to Bellamy’s pickup so they could sneak out and buy hair dye.

“Nothing.”

But Octavia knows better than to believe her. She narrows her eyes. _“Costia.”_

“Fine,” the girl mutters, standing up and peeling off her jersey. It clings to her back as she yanks it over her head, crumpling to the ground. “I realized something the other day,” she turns to face the girl after she tugs on a clean tank top, arms crossed. Octavia suddenly feels as if she’s in trouble.

“I mean, I can’t believe I didn’t notice it before,” Costia shakes her head in disbelief, talking almost to herself. “It’s been staring me in the face this whole time! How did I not--?”

 _“Costia,”_ Octavia glares at her, snapping her out of her thoughts. The girl clamps her mouth shut immediately, hesitating for a few moments before sighing and plopping back down onto the bed. Beside her, Octavia holds her breath.

“I know about you and Raven,” she blurts out, hastily looking to Octavia for answers. But despite the element of surprise, her friend is quick, and although Octavia panics on the inside, Cosita doesn’t even see her flinch.

“What about us?” Octavia furrows her eyebrows together, acting oblivious. She tilts her head to the side for added effect. She should’ve expected Costia to have caught on by now, if she’s being honest. But she’s still avoiding the subject like the plague.

Costia’s smart, though, and right away she can see straight through Octavia’s facade. And while she’s never been good at comforting people, she tries her best--keeping her voice soft and reaching out to gently nudge her friend’s shoulder. “Come on, O. It’s me,” she sighs, silently pleading with Octavia to look at her.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You carved your names in the tree,” Costia deadpans, looking to her friend knowingly.

“ _That’s_ what this is about?” Octavia scoffs and shakes her head, repeating Raven’s previous words to herself. _“Friends can do it too,”_ she nods once. “And besides, we were _kids_. All that was even before we--,” she freezes mid-sentence.

“Before you what?” Costia sits up quickly at the slightest hint of a confession, curiosity flickering in her eyes. But by then, Octavia’s already clamped her mouth shut, shaking her head and hastily shoving the rest of her belongings back into her bag. She’s hopping to her feet before Costia can say another word. She can’t do this--not now.

“Nothing,” Octavia breathes out, suddenly visibly shaken. She tosses her bag over her shoulder and hurries across the room. “I’m going to lunch.”

Costia raises an eyebrow. “With your entire duffel bag?”

Flustered, Octavia fumbles with her bag, tossing it in a crumpled heap by the door. Before Costia can even get a word in edgewise, the screen door swings shut, clattering against the doorframe and echoing around the small room. Now left alone, all she can do it sigh, close her eyes, and try to plan a different approach. Octavia’s been her close friend for as long as she can remember, but Costia’s never seen her this insistent on harboring a secret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay first off, i'm so so sorry i haven't updated as usual i was super duper busy but here's chapter 6!! the clexa moment was pretty fun to write and it gives you a lot more insight into lexa's life especially. leave a comment and let me know what you think!


	7. Chapter 7

“Did that hurt?”

“...A little.”

“That was more of a bellyflop than a dive,” Octavia laughs softly, helping Riley climb back onto the dock from where she stands in the water, giving her a boost. The small girl is quick to scramble back up to dry land, shaking out her hair before kneeling on the edge of the dock and holding her hands over her head--the way Octavia had taught her to do. 

“Good,” Octavia nods and swims closer to her. “Except this time, make sure the  _ very _ tips of your fingers touch the water before anything else. Last time it was your elbows, that’s why you flopped on your stomach.”

Riley nods quickly, eager to learn. But just as she leans forward to slide into the water, a whistle blares in the distance, making both girls jump.

“Shoot!” Riley jumps to her feet, the entire dock shaking beneath her. “That’s my cabin leader!” She looks to Octavia worriedly, glancing back and forth from the girl to the camp in the distance. 

“Go on,” Octavia laughs, waving her hand to dismiss the girl. Within seconds, tiny footsteps thump down the dock, kicking up gravel as Riley scrambles back up to camp. Octavia’s about to pull herself back onto the dock, but just as Riley disappears over the crest of the hill, someone else pushes through the shortcut in the woods. The rustling of leaves catches Octavia’s attention.

“God, it’s a hike to get here,” Raven shakes her head, catching her breath as she limps over to the dock. The sound of her crutch dragging across the hollow wood echoes around the lake--and even though they’re supposed to have made up, Octavia still tenses at the sight of the girl. It’s involuntary. 

She knows things were expected to go back to normal between them, but she can’t help it. There’s something off--and it’s not just on her end. Raven’s been…  _ distant _ , too. But what can she do? So far they’ve just been pretending that everything’s fine. She can’t begin to address the problem when she doesn’t even have a clue what it is. 

“Lose your little buddy?” Raven raises an eyebrow, coming to a stop at the dead end of the dock. She taps her crutch against her ankle twice, looking to Octavia, who shrinks under her gaze.

“Campers got called back,” Octavia nods, her voice quiet. They hold awkward eye contact for a few moments before she dunks her head underwater, arching her back and flipping her hair out of her face. When she shakes the water from her ears and rubs her eyes, she looks back up to find Raven has sat down, her legs dangling off the edge of the dock. 

“What’s up?” Octavia tilts her head to the side, kicking off the ground and swimming up to the dock. She’s refusing to let things feel uncomfortable between them. She pulls herself up to rest her arms on the dock, leaving the rest of her body in the water. “Miss me?” she teases, trying to shake off her nerves.

“Never,” Raven rolls her eyes and nudges the girl’s shoulder. But then she pauses, her gaze moving away from Octavia as she takes a deep breath and leans back on her hands, looking out at the lake in front of them. The mood shifts when she laughs sadly, shaking her head and glancing down. “Missed this place, though.”

Octavia lifts her head, immediately noticing the look of longing that’s spread over Raven’s features. There’s a pang of guilt in her chest. In that sense, they’re connected. When Raven’s sad, so is she. It’s impossible for her to have a good time unless Raven is, too.

“This time last year I would’ve been able to make it there and back in less than 5 minutes,” Raven nods, using her hand to motion to the opposite side of the lake. Frowning, Octavia just drums her fingers on her arm, listening quietly. There’s a long pause between them before Raven lets her head hang down in defeat. “But now,” she raps her knuckles against her knee. “Now things are different.”

“You miss swimming?” Octavia tilts her head to the side. Her wet hair leaves dark trails on the dock and she smudges them with her finger, pulling her eyes away from Raven when she senses how embarrassed the girl is.

“Of course,” Raven shrugs half-heartedly. “I was good at it.”

“Who says you can’t swim?”

Raven turns her head to look at the girl, quirking an eyebrow. “Did you forget the entire conversation in the cart? Or?”

“Of course not,” Octavia’s quick to shake her head, trying not to get flustered. “But seriously. You got open wounds?”

Now, Raven looks even more confused. “No?” she sits up, eyeing the girl beside her. “What are you talking about?”

Octavia reaches out abruptly and grabs Raven’s wrist, her eyes hopeful. “Then what’s stopping you?”

“Oh, hell no,” Raven quickly realizes what the girl’s hinting at. She yanks her arm from Octavia’s grip and moves to stand up. “Are you insane?”

“No, Raven, wait,” Octavia shakes her head frantically and scrambles up onto the dock, dripping wet. “I’m serious, Raven. What’s the harm in trying?”

“Because my leg is fucked, Octavia! Okay?” Raven snaps, throwing her hands down at her sides and rendering Octavia speechless. She shakes her head in frustration. “Do you not understand that?”

“I…” Octavia takes a deep breath and swallows her hesitation. “I understand that you’re Raven Reyes, and like  _ hell _ if you’re gonna let this fucking stop you,” she takes a step forward, her chin tilted upward. “The Raven I know would  _ never _ back down from a challenge.”

But Raven just squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head, exhaling shakily.  _ “Then maybe you don’t know me anymore,” _ she whispers, her voice weak. She tears her eyes away from Octavia’s as she retrieves her crutch from the ground, turning to leave. Octavia tries her best to push Raven’s words to the back of her mind. 

“Raven, wait,” Octavia blurts out, knowing what had happened the last time she’d let Raven walk away. She hurries after the girl, grabbing her shoulder before she can even make it off the dock.

“I--,” Octavia starts, desperately trying to plea with the girl. But her train of thought is interrupted the moment her eyes land on the now-exposed part of Raven’s shoulder, a result of Octavia grabbing her shirt. Raven quickly realizes, too, which leads to a few seconds of hesitant eye contact, as if she’s been caught.  _ She does know her. _

“You’re wearing a bathing suit,” Octavia observes matter-of-factly. She then crosses her arms, leaving Raven to anxiously tug the sleeve of her shirt back into place. Octavia just looks at her knowingly, expecting answers.

“I didn’t expect you to be down here,” Raven mutters, shoulders slumping in defeat. “It was stupid, anyway. I wouldn’t have wound up going in.”

“But you  _ want _ to,” Octavia notes, pressing her point. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to get dressed and come down here.” She studies Raven, immediately seeing the hesitation in her eyes--the way the girl struggles to even look at her. 

“I just wanted to see if I could,” Raven finally admits, her voice softening. She rubs her arm nervously and looks out to the lake. Right away, Octavia can practically feel the fear radiating off of the girl. She knows just how much Raven’s prided herself on being the best swimmer at camp, and how much she’ll be uprooted when the full reality of the situation hits her. 

“Then what’s stopping you?” Octavia offers her the saddest of smiles. “No one’s asking you to dive off the dock and swim a lap,” she shrugs. “But there’s the shallow end right there, and you’ve got me to use as your own personal crutch,” she nudges the girl’s arm gently, eyes hopeful.

“I…” Raven hesitates. Octavia pauses, suddenly wondering if she’s being too forceful. But before she can say anything else, Raven’s mumbling a quiet  _ “fuck it” _ and tugging off her t-shirt. Taken aback, Octavia nearly stumbles a few steps backward, but Raven’s already making her way off of the dock, headed towards the grassy bank that borders the lake. Octavia’s quick to snap out of her trance and hurry after her. 

“I need to take this off,” Raven says softly once Octavia catches up to her, skidding to a stop at her side. It grows quiet--Raven just stares out at the lake for a few moments, holding her breath as the water laps against the shore just a few feet away. Octavia studies her, eyes tracing over her face, recognizing every small sign--the way her eyebrows stitch together slightly, the subtle curve of her lip. It’s the same look she’d always get before a race--determination. Octavia can’t help but be hopeful.

Eventually, Raven slowly bends down to begin undoing the restraints on her brace. And when she loses her balance, Octavia’s quick to grab onto her. While Raven doesn’t necessarily acknowledge it, she maintains an iron grip on Octavia’s arm--letting the girl know that she needs the help more than she lets on. Octavia’s always known Raven was stubborn, but now she’s beginning to see just how strong she really is.

The brace finally falls to rest into the soft grass, and Octavia almost instinctively ducks under the girl’s arm to support her weaker side. There’s a moment passed between them--where Raven lifts her head and meets Octavia’s gaze, eyes filled with fear, curiosity, and hopefulness all at once. But the fear seems to be overpowering--until Octavia gives her the softest of nods, a silent encouragement. For some reason, it’s the final push that she needs. A few seconds pass before Raven swallows thickly, returning the nod and taking a step forward. 

And so, slowly but surely, they make their way into the shallow end of the lake, the water cold against the bottoms of their feet. They both remain silent in fear of ruining whatever progress they’ve made so far, in fear of breaking some sort of silent agreement. And before Raven knows it, she’s waist deep in the water. It’s as if a weight has been lifted from her shoulders.

“It hurts less,” she whispers in surprise, shivering as goosebumps prick at her arms. Being in the water feels odd, but it’s different. There’s less pressure on her leg and hips--and honestly, it’s the most relief she’s felt in a while. 

“Keep going?” Octavia looks to her questioningly, earning a determined nod in return. As they venture deeper and deeper into the lake, Octavia’s grip on the girl slowly begins to loosen, until eventually they stop and she lets go altogether, the water nearly up to their shoulders.

“You good?” Octavia asks softly, raising a curious eyebrow. The last traces of the sun’s light reflect off the water, lighting up their faces and highlighting even the tiniest of water droplets on Raven’s eyelashes. The girl next to her nods, her arms skimming over the surface of the water.

“Yeah,” Raven breathes out, using her arms to keep herself balanced, treading water with the upper half of her body. Octavia hovers nearby, her hands twitching at her sides, resisting the urge to reach out and help her. She knows the reaction she’ll be met with. 

“Feels different,” Raven nods, turning to look at Octavia. “It’s just…  _ different.”  _ There’s a look of longing in her eyes. She feels utterly defeated, she knows she’ll never be able to do things like she used to. But she’s also hopeful. Hopeful because she thought she’d never get in the water again. That is, until Octavia looked at her with those damn puppy dog eyes, and then she wasn’t so afraid anymore.

“Remember when you taught me how to swim?” Octavia blurts out, glancing back to the shore where the memory had taken place--bare feet against tall grass, Raven practically dragging a nervous Octavia into the water, diving underneath the deep end and proudly retrieving a handful of pebbles from the very bottom of the lake. It feels as if it was yesterday.

“Yeah, you sucked,” Raven laughs softly, following her gaze. Octavia can’t help but smile.

“Still do,” she nods, slicking back her wet hair. “You were always the coordinated one.”

“And you were always saving my ass when I got too confident,” Raven rolls her eyes lightheartedly. 

“Like the time we got stranded in the woods?”

“Exactly,” Raven laughs and shakes her head. “In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the  _ best _ idea to walk  _ deeper _ into the forest to look for help.”

But Octavia just shrugs. “It made for a good story.”

“We have a lot of those,” Raven notes softly, brushing her hair from her face. Octavia swears something sparks between them when their eyes meet, but she tears hers away within seconds. It’s all too real, the feelings too raw. 

“Hey,” Octavia clears her throat, her eyes focused anywhere but Raven’s own. “Remember our old hiding spot?”

“We had plenty of those.” 

“Our main one,” Octavia clarifies, motioning with a nod. Raven follows her gaze, immediately realizing what she’s hinting to. The dock.

“I don’t like that look on your face,” Raven deadpans, her eyebrow quirking. Octavia turns back to her hopefully. 

“Do you think you can?”

In any other instance, Raven wouldn’t even consider it. But Octavia’s eyes are so damn hopeful. She’s hesitant for just long enough to give the girl a chance.  “I don’t know how I’d--,”

“There’s no harm in trying,” Octavia grabs her wrist instinctively, nodding towards the docks. Raven’s skin is cold against her own. “I’ll go under first so I can help you through.”

“I don’t know about this,” Raven mutters as Octavia starts to lead her towards the docks, but she doesn’t resist. They’ve done this since their first summer at camp--diving under the wooden docks and emerging beneath, a secret outcove they’d claimed for themselves.

It’s surprisingly easier than Raven thought to move around within the water. There’s less weight and more mobility, and when she takes the plunge to dive under the dock, all she has to do is cross her ankles like a mermaid and let Octavia guide her through, both hands wrapped firmly around her wrists. 

“Told you so,” Octavia smirks, her first words as soon as Raven breaks the surface. The girl catches her breath, shaking her wet hair out of her face and pausing to look around the dimly lit outcove, light streaming through the cracks in the dock above them. 

“Just the same as we left it,” she laughs softly. Octavia’s already leading her further up the small expanse of land, to the shallow part of the water where they can sit down. Raven uses her hands to lower herself to sit beside the girl. Wringing out her hair and taking a deep breath, she slowly takes in the onslaught of memories that come flooding back to her. She hates to say she missed them.

“Costia was acting weird today,” Octavia blurts out before she can take it back. Snapped out of her own thoughts, Raven raises her eyebrows and turns to the girl, who suddenly looks fearful.

“How so?”

“She found her initials in the tree from like, forever ago,” Octavia tries her best to shrug it off. “What were we, ten?”

“Thirteen,” Raven nods, remembering it clearly. “What about it?”

“I dunno,” Octavia lies, now cursing herself for even bringing it up. “I think she was reading into it too much.”

Raven digs her toes into the sand, a soft nod passed between them. “Weird,” is all she mumbles, shrugging a shoulder. Octavia tilts her head, subtly studying the girl for a few moments.

“Wanna see something cool?” Raven speaks up to break the awkward silence. When their eyes meet once more, Octavia can’t help but laugh softly. If Raven had a catch phrase--that would be it. Octavia’s heard it over and over since the first day they met. She quirks a curious eyebrow at her friend.

“Look,” Raven presses both hands into the ground and turns to the side. She looks over her shoulder and presses a hand right above her hipbone. “See that scar?”

Before she even has time to think, Octavia’s reaching out and running her fingers over the scar, jagged and irregular like a mountain range. Raven shivers under her touch.

“What is it?” Octavia whispers, quickly drawing her hand away as if she’s been burnt. The look on Raven’s face makes her regret doing so. 

“It wasn’t a clear shot,” Raven swallows and shakes her head, suddenly growing nervous. “They had to take the bullet out. So…” she cups her hand over the scar on her hip and shrugs. “Now I’ve got this to show for it.”

“I think it’s cool,” Octavia half-whispers, looking away from Raven to keep her from feeling uncomfortable. It’s silent for a moment before she tries to lighten the mood. “Remember how you used to be jealous of mine?” Octavia points to the scar on her elbow--one she’d earned at ten years old after attempting to climb a rusted chain fence.

“Okay, but that’s cause it looks like an _ O _ if you squint hard enough,” Raven bumps her shoulder and leans back on her hands, thankful for an excuse to change the subject.

“I still think yours is cool,” Octavia shrugs, digging her toes into the sand. It’s quiet between them for a few moments.

“I missed you, you know,” Raven speaks up, glancing over to the girl. Their eyes meet and her expression softens before she looks back down to her hands. “I wrote you letters when I was in the hospital, but I was too scared to send them.”

“You did?” Octavia’s voice is laced with surprise.

“Of course,” Raven laughs. “I wanted to tell you what was going on, just didn’t know how to say it.”

“We really suck at communicating,” Octavia notes. She tosses a handful of pebbles in the water and watches as the ripples dissipate around them. Raven just laughs softly from beside her. 

After that, it’s quiet for a while. And to Octavia’s surprise, it’s nice. It’s not awkward. But eventually, the sky starts to turn a deep orange, and soon Octavia’s diving back from under the docks and helping Raven do the same.

The hike back to the cabins takes longer than usual, but Octavia does her best to hang back and let Raven take her time. Octavia’s come to realize that it’s going to take some getting used to--Raven’s leg. They’re not ten years old anymore, sprinting through the woods and swinging from the trees. They’re older, weathered. Octavia can’t help but wonder if Raven looks back on their childhood with the same longing that she does. 

Eventually, when they make it back to the cabin, Octavia finds herself disappointed that the walk is over. Even though they spent most of the walk in comfortable silence, she’d do it forever. Things are starting to feel normal between them.

“Nice to see you two together again,” Clarke hums when they come into view. She sits on Costia’s bunk, sketchbook in her lap. Tousled curls hang down from the bed above them, and Lexa lifts her head to greet the two girls with a shy smile. 

Octavia just nods, kicking the door open and holding it for Raven, whose entire aura seems to have shifted now that they’re not alone. “What’re you up to?” Octavia questions, keeping an eye on Raven as she makes a beeline for her things, remaining quiet.

“Costia’s out with the guys,” Clarke explains, casting a glance up to Lexa. “We’re just… hanging around.”

By then, Raven’s already disappeared into the bathroom without a word. And as soon as they hear the sound of the water being turned on, Clarke is pushing her sketchbook aside and raising a knowing eyebrow at Octavia. “How is she?” 

“Fine,” Octavia shrugs, knowing this was inevitable. Clarke always has a lot of questions. She moves over to busy herself, digging through her duffel bag, but it’s easy to tell that Clarke isn’t satisfied with her answer.

“Just fine?”

“What do you expect me to say?” Octavia turns around and crosses her arms, her tone a bit harsher than usual. “Why don’t  _ you  _ talk to her and find out for yourself?”

Lexa bites her lip, watching as Octavia storms off to the showers, a towel slung over her shoulder. She looks to Clarke as soon as the girl is gone, expecting her friend to be upset, but instead Clarke just laughs and shakes her head. 

“What was that?” Lexa asks softly. 

“That?” Clarke glances up to her, raising an eyebrow and nodding to the door. “ _ That _ was normal.”

_ “Normal?” _

Laying back, Clarke presses her feet against the underside of Lexa’s bunk and studies the girl from below. “Yeah, normal,” she shrugs one shoulder. “Octavia’s always been protective when it comes to Raven. That’s back to normal. So much for enemies, yeah?”

“Oh,” Lexa hums and glances back to the door. “Weird.” She curls her fingers over the mattress and lets her head hang down once more, laughing when Clarke reaches up and twirls a strand of her hair around her finger. “Show me more of your drawings?” she suggests, her voice hopeful, eyes bright. 

Eventually, Costia returns, and soon all five girls are showered and hanging around the bunks. Clarke and Costia lounge on Costia’s bed, with Raven and Octavia on the bed across from them. Meanwhile, Lexa lays on her top bunk, watching them all from above.

Octavia hangs upside down from Raven’s bed, hair dangling just above the floor, doodling in a page she’d stolen from Clarke’s sketchbook. Meanwhile, Costia tugs her wet hair up into a messy bun and plops down onto the bed, tossing her legs up into Clarke’s lap. 

“Have you ever curled your hair before?” 

Costia lifts her eyes to look at Clarke, who looks at her curiously. “What?”

“Your hair,” Clarke nods once. “Have you ever done anything with it besides just leaving it natural?”

Costia shakes her head and sits up so she’s leaning back on her hands. “Why?”

“No reason,” Clarke shrugs. “Just thought it’d look pretty if you curled it.” She reaches out to touch the girl’s hair, but quickly recoils when Costia leans away.

“Why would I waste my time?” the girl grumbles and plops back down to the mattress, a sudden edge to her voice. Confused, Clarke looks to Octavia, but all she gets in return is the quick shake of the head. Octavia draws her finger across her throat like a knife, warning her not to push it. 

Luckily, before things can get too awkward, a few other girls funnel into the cabin and break the tension. Amidst the whirlwind of pillows and blankets tossed about, Clarke manages to collect her sketchbook and slip out the front door. Sometimes she’s thankful for being given the quieter cabin. 

While she’s sitting down on the front stoop to tie her shoes, the door creaks softly behind her. There’s a few soft footsteps, a pause, and then someone clears their throat politely. When Clarke looks up, it’s Lexa who offers her a shy smile and lets the door swing shut behind her. 

“It’s loud in there,” the girl says softly, nodding back toward the cabin. She’s in a white t-shirt and patterned pajama shorts--probably Octavia’s. Her hair, still damp from her shower, is curly and tousled back out of her face. Someone’s glasses are perched on her nose.

“Yeah?” Clarke raises an eyebrow at her, laughing softly. She quickly notes the change of mood in the girl. 

“Yeah,” Lexa breathes out nervously. “I was gonna walk you back, if that’s alright,” she adds, her eyes skittering down to her feet, toes curling against the rough wood. She holds her breath in anticipation of Clarke’s response.

Clarke looks to the girl curiously, yet refrains from questioning her. Then, when she moves to rise to her feet, Lexa’s practically scrambling down the stairs, sliding in front of her and holding out a hand to help her up. Their gazes meet for a split second, and Clarke catches the hopefulness in Lexa’s eyes before she tears them away, bashful.

When Clarke finally takes Lexa’s hand, the girl tenses up at her touch. Lexa practically freezes when, after she’s pulled Clarke to her feet, Clarke doesn’t let go of her hand. Instead, Clarke gently laces their fingers together and immediately looks to her for approval. Lexa’s heart is practically exploding of her her chest, and as her cheeks burn bright red, she quickly looks down to hide her face. Clarke simply squeezes her hand reassuringly before leading her down the pathway. 

“This is the best time of day around here,” Clarke speaks up to try and ease Lexa’s nerves. “Golden hour. Right before the sun sets,” she motions to the trees with her free hand, where they glow a brilliant gold, light leaking through the leaves.

“Yeah,” Lexa breathes out, nodding quickly. She’s obviously flustered--and struggling to hide it--yet Clarke can’t help but find it cute. She gently swings their hands between them as they walk, not missing the way Lexa shyly glances over to her, equal parts nervous and excited. But Clarke knows not to acknowledge it--not to make it into a big deal. Lexa’s flighty, and the last thing she wants is to scare her away.

“So what happens to you?” Clarke tilts her head to the side curiously, gaining Lexa’s attention. “I mean, we’re practically harboring you like a fugitive. What happens if they come looking for you?” 

Lexa’s face falls slightly and she shrugs one shoulder. She trains her eyes on their feet, matching her footsteps to Clarke’s. It doesn’t help that she’s hyper aware of the fact that their fingers are laced together, however lighthearted Clarke may interpret it. “I’m trying not to think about it,” she confesses. “So… I don’t know.” 

“What happens if you have to go back?”

“I won’t,” Lexa responds right away, an edge to her voice as she finally looks to Clarke. “I’m not going back.” Clarke pauses, studying her for a few moments before nodding slowly.

“We’ll just have to make sure you stay hidden, then,” she nudges the girl’s shoulder with her own. Lexa’s an enigma--tense one moment and relaxed the next. Clarke’s still trying to figure out how to keep her grounded.

Luckily, she manages to get Lexa to crack a smile just as they come to a stop in front of her cabin. Slowly, hesitantly, their hands detach and Clarke lingers with one foot on the wooden steps, the other still on the ground.

“See you tomorrow?” she offers softly once she realizes Lexa isn’t going to say anything. The smaller girl just clasps her hands together, fiddling with her thumbs and giving Clarke a quick nod before she looks down at her feet. So, unsure of what else to do, Clarke whispers a soft  _ “goodnight”  _ and heads inside. 

However, just as her fingers curl around the handle of the door, someone breathes out a abrupt  _ “wait” _ behind her, and a pair of footsteps hurries to join her on the porch. When Clarke turns around, Lexa’s suddenly impossibly close to her, and even Lexa realizes, stumbling a few steps backward.

“I-I was just thinking,” Lexa shakes her head, motioning nervously with her hands. “When you showed me your sketchbook, you know? You draw a lot of people. And that’s cool and all, but I was thinking you could try and draw the lake,” she nods quickly, rambling to herself--stalling, almost. It’s practically the most Clarke’s ever heard her speak. “Because you were talking about golden hour and the lake’s really pretty and there’s lots of colors when--,”

Lexa’s words turn into a muffled  _ ‘umf’ _ when Clake’s lips press hastily against hers, cutting her off mid-sentence and rendering her speechless. There’s a hand on her cheek, a thumb brushing over her skin, and Lexa doesn’t even remember telling herself to kiss her back, she just  _ does,  _ Clarke’s lips are soft and delicate against her own _. _ Everything’s spinning in her head, and when Clarke finally pulls away, her eyes carefully searching Lexa’s own, Lexa has to remind herself to breathe. 

As soon as she realizes what’s happened, Lexa’s hand comes up to her lips, looking down to her feet and then back to Clarke in disbelief. Hesitancy flickers in her eyes, a silent question, but the shy smile Clarke offers her is enough to calm her down. 

“See you tomorrow,” Clarke whispers, reaching out and squeezing Lexa’s hand once more before she slips into the cabin, the door quietly creaking shut behind her. 

For a moment, Lexa just stands there, fingers pressed against her lips, heart racing in her chest, blood pounding in her ears. She has to keep replaying it over and over in her mind to convince herself that it really  _ did  _ happen. She nearly falls down the porch stairs when she finally can tell her feet to move, and as soon as she gets back to her cabin, she buries herself under the blankets and presses her face into her pillow, no longer hiding the giant smile on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #finally.


	8. Chapter 8

“Rae.”

“Raven?”

“Hm?” a muffled voice appears from beneath Octavia’s bunk, breaking the silence between them. It’s long past midnight, and the cabin is pitch black, dead silent except for the crickets outside. Quietly, as to not wake anyone else, Octavia hangs her head down, a black bundle of hair dangling above Raven’s bunk.

“You awake?” Octavia whispers, hopeful.

“What does it look like?” Raven props herself up on an elbow, eyeing the girl above her. Octavia frowns and shakes her head, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment. It’s quiet for too long, and she finally draws in a deep breath.

“I can’t sleep,” she confesses. “Then I heard you fidgeting.”

“You okay?” Raven furrows her eyebrows, immediately concerned.

“Fine,” Octavia blows a strand of hair from in front of her face. “Just not tired,” she pauses, eyes scanning the girl’s dimly lit figure. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Why are  _ you _ still up?”

“Oh,” Raven swallows thickly. She shifts her position slightly, as if she’s trying to hide from Octavia’s questioning gaze. But she’s promised herself that she’ll be truthful from now on, even if it’s unpleasant. So she lets her eyes fall shut. “Some nights it’s harder than others.”

There’s silence for a few moments before Octavia disappears from view. As soon as Raven hears the girl making her way down the ladder, she almost automatically scoots over. They’ve been doing this since they were kids and both scared of monsters lurking in the shadows. As expected, Octavia slowly sits down on the edge of her bed, the mattress shifting under her weight.

“Is there anything I can do?” her voice appears, soft and full of concern. And maybe it’s the fact that it’s long past midnight, or maybe it’s the pain radiating from her hip lapsing her judgement, but Raven ends up simply sighing and patting the space beside her. 

The only thing that Octavia can do is swallow her own fear. She’s thinking too much into this, she tells herself. They’ve done this countless times before--as  _ friends _ \--and this time should be no different. So, she carefully lays back beside the girl, arms crossed over her chest. It’s awkwardly tense for a moment before Raven breaks the silence. 

“It hurts,” is all she can manage, a quiet whisper escaping her lips. All at once, Octavia’s hit with a wave of sorrow, hurting for her best friend. She props herself up on her elbows and lets her eyes fall to the girl’s face, studying her quietly. It’s all too real. 

“Remember the time we flooded the kitchen?” she asks softly, a sad smile on her lips. She’s not sure what she’s doing, really--but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. The whites of Raven’s eyes glimmer when she lifts them to look at Octavia. 

“Course’ I do,” Raven manages to crack a smile. “How could I forget?”

Octavia’s thankful that it’s dark, because for some reason, her face turns bright red. She laughs softly, flicking her head and letting her hair fall over her face like a curtain. 

“What about the time you let the mini goats free during the petting zoo for the little kids?” Raven raises an eyebrow, making Octavia giggle.

“I told you, that was an  _ accident _ ,” she mumbles, rolling onto her stomach and pretending to bury her head in Raven’s pillow. The entire bed shakes and Raven laughs from beside her. 

“Do you ever miss it?” the words slip out of Octavia’s mouth before she even realizes what she’s saying. Her eyes are suddenly looking to Raven, boring into her own, mixed with curiosity and hopefulness.

“Miss what?”

“ _ That _ ,” Octavia lifts up her hand only to let it fall back onto the bed. “Our childhood. Those summers. Everything was so simple,” she glances over to the girl, a soft sigh escaping her lips. “Do you miss it?”

“Everyday.” 

Octavia doesn’t even realize their fingers are laced together until Raven lifts their bundled hands above them, each girl absentmindedly playing with one another’s fingers--Raven’s stepping up and down and around her wrist, dancing through constellations against the backdrop of the bunk above them. And despite all its innocence, Octavia’s heart is exploding out of her chest.

“Will it ever be that simple again?” Octavia’s head rolls to the side, cheek pressed against Raven’s pillow, her hair a wild mess sprawled around her. Raven’s eyes are still focused on their hands held high above them, but a finger slowly ghosts down the underside of Octavia’s wrist, making her shiver. A small smile forms on Raven’s face and it brings forth the familiar jittery feeling in Octavia’s stomach. In this moment, she wants to badly to kiss her. No wandering hands or ulterior motives. Octavia just craves to be close to Raven, to breathe her in, to touch her in the most innocent of ways. Her eyes flutter shut when Raven traces her fingers across her palm. 

“Anya has an uncle who reads palms for a living,” Raven speaks softly, drumming her fingers atop Octavia’s. “We lived with him for a few months and he taught me how.” Now Octavia’s looking to her curiously, watching as Raven gently flattens out her palm in the dim light and draws it closer to her face.

“See this line?” Raven drags the top of her finger across the cease in Octavia’s exposed palm and waits until she earns a soft nod from the girl beside her.

“That’s your heartline,” Raven whispers, tapping the base of the girl’s index finger. “Yours curves up. Means you think too much,” she finally looks to Octavia, their faces only inches away in the cramped bunk. An amused smile forms on her face. “Accurate, yeah?”

Flustered, Octavia rushes to nod, swallowing thickly. “What about yours?” she rasps, looking to Raven questioningly. Something’s happening, she thinks. And she can’t shake the feeling in her stomach.

“Me?” Raven quirks an eyebrow and opens her own palm, using her other hand to guide the pad of Octavia’s index finger to trace across her own. “I don’t think enough,” she laughs softly. “Can’t hide the way I feel and shit, you know?”

Octavia just nods, stepping her fingers across Raven’s palm one last time before slowly drawing her hands back onto her stomach. “You never answered my question,” she mumbles, her words hesitant. Raven lifts her head. 

“Which was?”

“If things would ever be that simple again,” Octavia murmurs, studying the creases on her own hands to try and avoid the way Raven’s looking at her--to avoid the temptation to close the distance between them. 

“They  _ are _ simple,” Raven props herself up on an elbow, her voice suddenly the only thing Octavia can focus on. “At least, it’s pretty simple to me. Maybe you just think too much.”

There’s a soft smile on Raven’s face and Octavia  _ swears _ the girl winks at her. But then again, it’s nearly 4am and she could possibly be hallucinating. Either way, as Raven dozes off beside her, Octavia remains awake, eyes wide open and staring at the underside of the bunk above them. She can’t stop thinking about what Raven had said. And just like the girl’s fingers running across her palm had predicted, Octavia thinks too much. It doesn’t help that every time Raven’s leg brushes up against her own, she practically turns to stone and goes into cardiac arrest. 

By the end of the night, just as the sun has started leaking in through the windows, Octavia’s finally come to some sort of conclusion--she’s too close.  _ They’re _ too close. She thought she could handle teetering on the line between just friends and  _ something more _ , but she can’t. It’s all or nothing. And the risk she runs is too great.

And so, she has to deal with this the same way she seems to deal with anything else--distance. Out of all or nothing, she’s forced to chose nothing. Her feelings for Raven are a Pandora’s Box of emotions, a monster that she dare not unleash into the world. She needs to bury them deep, deeper than she already has. So deep that maybe they’ll disappear for good. 

Because truth is, she can’t handle just friends. And to Raven, that’s all they are.

* * *

 

Costia may have no interest whatsoever in romance or anything of the sort, but that doesn’t mean she isn’t an expert in the field. Thanks to all the time she’s spent  _ trying _ to draw out her own feelings (for guys and girls alike)-- along with the summers she’s spent observing everyone else pine after one another, she’s gained a pretty sound perspective on how these things go. Combined with her brutal honesty, it makes her the most sought after advice-giver at camp.

Although in this case, she has to take matters into her own hands.

“Clarke Griffin!”

The door to the cabin bursts open, scaring Clarke half to death and sending a pile of clothes flying out of her hands. Costia just stands at the door with her arms crossed, knowing she’s caught her friend at just the right time. Amidst the collection of clothes scattered around her feet, Clarke looks to her in absolute confusion. 

“Want to tell me why Lexa skipped back into our cabin last night like she’d just…  _ I don’t know _ … kissed someone?” Costia smirks, a knowing eyebrow raised at the girl. Her ponytail bounces on her shoulder when she cocks her head to the side.

“Damn,” Clarke shakes her head, impressed. “Nothing ever gets past you.”

“What can I say? I’m the best,” Costia throws her arms up in a shrug and falls back onto one of the beds, rolling onto her stomach and watching as Clarke hurries to gather up the laundry on the floor. She studies the girl for a few moments, taking her time. 

“So she seemed happy to you?” Clarke can’t help but ask. After last night’s events, she’d had trouble getting to sleep--tossing and turning and hoping she hadn’t made a mistake. There’s a teasing smirk on Costia’s face that Clarke does her best to ignore.

“Yes ma’am,” Costia hums, drumming her fingers against the mattress. “Care to explain what’s going on between you two? Or do I need to go pry it out of  _ her _ ?”

Clarke opens her mouth to speak, but before she can even utter a single word, the door to the cabin is nudged open slightly and a pair of brown eyes peer into the room, interrupting the mood. Clarke and Costia exchange curious glances before looking over to Raven, who appears visibly nervous. 

“Thank god,” the girl breathes out and shakes her head. “You,” she nods, pointing to Costia. The girl freezes in place. “I need to talk to you.”

Clarke, amused, raises an eyebrow in Costia’s direction. “Looks like you’re in high demand.”

“We’ll wrap this up later,” Costia motions between her and Clarke, playfully saluting the girl before she bounces to her feet and hurries to join Raven on the porch. Something’s up, she can tell that right away.

The first thing that Raven mutters is “not here,” -- and then Costia’s being dragged behind one of the neighboring cabins. Vacant, with no chance of being overheard.

“What’s this all about?” Costia smirks, leaning against the side of the cabin and placing a hand on her hip. “Some kind of pre-breakfast booty call?” 

But Raven is anything but amused. In fact, even Costia’s mood is stolen when the girl shakes her head, slapping her palm against the side of the cabin in frustration. Costia quickly drops her attitude to look at Raven, eyes flooding with concern. “What’s going on?” she tilts her head to the side, leaning in closer.

“I have a problem,” Raven blurts out, anxiously shaking the string bracelets on her wrist. She looks away from Costia and swallows thickly. 

“What kind of problem?”

“An Octavia-sized one,” Raven confesses, mumbling downward with her chin pressed to her chest. She’s too ashamed to look up, which is why she misses the way Costia’s face lights up in realization, eyes widening. 

_ “That’s _ what this is about?” Costia’s voice is laced with shock, prompting Raven to finally look at her, a heavy sigh escaping her lips.

“That’s why I came to you,” Raven admits. “I knew you suspected something.” She shrugs a shoulder and taps her crutch against the toe of her shoe. She’s unsure of what to say. “So…”

“So there  _ is _ something,” Costia’s eyes narrow, studying the girl in front of her. “Between you two… something’s going on,” she motions to Raven, not missing how her friend struggles to maintain eye contact.

“Not exactly,” Raven draws out her words hesitantly, leaning back against the cabin and bringing a hand up to her forehead. She’s forcing herself to take deep breaths. “Something happened. A while ago. But she’s… we’re not… she isn’t…”

“Oh  _ please _ ,” Costia cuts her off, rolling her eyes. “That girl’s been making puppy dog eyes over you ever since you grew tits.” 

Raven flinches. 

“ _ Boobs _ \--sorry,” Costia shakes her head. “Seriously, are you blind?” 

Costia’s bluntness takes Raven by surprise, and the girl lifts her head to look at her friend in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Jesus, Raven,” Costia shakes her head in disbelief. “Nevermind,” she’s quick to take her words back, wary of revealing too much--for Octavia’s sake. She tries to shake it off, turning back to Raven and cocking her head to the side. “Remind me why you’re here again?” 

Raven’s head falls to rest against the cabin, pinching the bridge of her nose. But she forces herself to swallow her fear. Besides, she’s already made it this far, there’s no use in turning back. Not that Costia would even let this go.

“Things…  _ happened _ . Last summer. Between us.”

“Like?” Costia tries her best to act casual, a slight tilt of the head trying to draw more out of Raven.

“Things… things that  _ friends _ don’t normally do,” Raven mutters, her chin falling to her chest. She holds her breath in hopes that Costia will connect the dots on her own. 

“You kissed?” Costia’s eyebrows rise in curiousity. 

Swallowing thickly, Raven shrugs and motions vaguely. “Some of that was involved, yeah.”

As soon as Costia catches on, her jaw practically drops to the ground, eyes widening. It’s even more than  _ she _ expected. “You and Octavia? You… you--?”

Raven hisses at her to be quiet, lunging forwards and clapping her hand over Costia’s mouth. She looks around them in concern, as if someone possibly could have overheard. “It was a one time thing,” she finally speaks, keeping her voice low, a harsh whisper. Her eyes lock with Costia’s in warning before she slowly moves her hand from her mouth. 

“I… I…  _ How?” _

“It was the last night at camp,” Raven slowly leans back and shoves her hands into her pockets. “Murphy had wine coolers.”

“So you got drunk and hooked up?”

Raven flinches at the word and quickly shakes her head. “Buzzed? Sure,” she nods. “Took the edge off.”

“But drunk? No,” Raven pauses. “At least… not as drunk as  _ she _ thinks I was,” her voice grows quieter and she looks down to her feet. “I was well aware of what I was doing.”

“But then…?”

“I panicked,” Raven breathes out. “We both did, I think.”

It’s quiet for a few moments as Costia takes it all in. Eventually, she shakes her head in disbelief. “I always knew there was  _ something _ between you two, but… damn,” she breathes out. “That’s a lot of history.”

Raven just mumbles a bitter  _ “tell me about it”  _ and squeezes her eyes shut. Slowly, they both end up sliding down the side of the house, sitting in the leaves that crinkle under their weight.

“So what happens now?” Costia turns to look at the girl, their knees barely touching. Raven’s inner debate is raging on, a quiet war being fought in her head. Costia bumps her shoulder in an attempt to draw her attention. 

“You’re supposed to tell me that,” Raven laughs softly, her shoulders rising and falling in a weak shrug. “What  _ do _ I do?” 

“I’m not in your head, Raven,” Costia runs a hand through her hair and pauses to think for a moment. “Just… let me get this straight… you think you’ve developed…  _ feelings _ ? For Octavia?” she slowly tilts her head to the side. “Like…  _ more-than-best-friend  _ feelings?”

In response, Raven sighs and lets her head fall to rest on her bent knee. “You see…” she mumbles. “That’s the thing.”

* * *

 

“Have you ever done something you weren’t supposed to?”

Octavia’s startled when Lexa’s suddenly standing in front of her bunk, balancing on her tiptoes to peer up at the girl. She quickly scrambles to hide what she was working on, shoving the papers underneath her pillow and turning to look at Lexa in confusion.

“I’m sorry, I just--,” Lexa shakes her head and starts to pace, confusing Octavia even more. “I was thinking…”

“What’s going on?” Octavia quickly swings her legs over her bunk and hops down to the floor. Lexa flinches when Octavia’s feet thump against the ground in front of her, shrinking under the girl’s questioning gaze.

“I did something,” Lexa blurts out, shaking her hands at her side. It’s dead silent for a few moments before she’s hit with another wave of panic, picking up her pacing once more. “Well, I technically didn’t  _ do _ it, but I let it happen,” she pauses. “I didn’t stop it, persay.”

“Did you sleep with someone?” Octavia cocks her head to the side. Lexa, however, skids to a stop to look at the girl with wide eyes. 

“No, oh my god, not that,” Lexa shakes her head violently.

“So you kissed someone,” Octavia leans up against the bunks and raises an eyebrow. 

“How’d you know?!”

“I didn’t,” Octavia shakes her head, lips curving into a smirk. “But I do now.”

“Oh,” Lexa mumbles, her eyes falling shut in defeat. “Okay, yeah,  _ maybe _ . But she was the one who leaned in. Not me.”

_ “She?” _

Lexa’s eyes shoot wide open and she freezes in place, like a deer in headlights, looking to Octavia in pure fear. She opens her mouth to speak but nothing comes out.

“Hey, hey, no, calm down,” Octavia’s quick to shake her head and reach out, placing a comforting hand on Lexa’s shoulder. “He or she--it doesn’t matter. Really. Did you like it?”

There’s a long pause. Lexa’s eyes move to Octavia hand on her shoulder, they slowly back to the girl. All she can do is nod softly.

“And if you could do it again, would you?”

Another nod, slow, anxiously waiting for Octavia’s reaction.

“Well then there’s your answer,” Octavia throws her arms up in a shrug. “Pretty simple to me.”

But Lexa shakes her head. “It’s scary,” she whispers, her eyes falling to the floor.

“All good things are,” Octavia raises her eyebrows. “Trust me. Go talk to her.”

Lexa looks up quickly. “Right now?”

“Right now,” Octavia nods. “Otherwise, you’re going to think too much and drive yourself crazy. And by then, your chance will be gone,” she reaches out and squeezes Lexa’s shoulder, giving it a gentle nudge. “Trust me on this one.”

Lexa’s eyes are wide with fear, but she’s quick to nod. She trusts Octavia. “I-I… okay,” she breathes out, closing her eyes and swallowing her fear. She glances to the door. “Wish me luck?”

Octavia reaches out and brushes a few curls out of Lexa’s face before taking a step back and nodding. “Go get em’ tiger,” she teases, bumping the girl’s shoulder. Lexa manages to mumble a  _ ‘thank you’ _ before she’s hurrying out of the room, mumbling under her breath and tugging anxiously at her sleeves. It’s pure adrenaline that keeps her from collapsing into a nervous heap on the ground.

Not soon after Lexa’s left, someone else wanders into the cabin. 

Raven keeps her head down, one boot dragging against the floor as she hurries over to the bed and digs through her bag. Assuming she’s alone, she’s yet to notice Octavia lying in her own bunk, which is why she practically falls backward when the girl speaks up. 

“Is something wrong?” Octavia’s voice is hesitant. The dark haired girl sits up in her bunk and eyes her friend nervously. She’s been trying to avoid Raven after last night’s events, when she’d let herself get too close--allowed herself to start falling again. But something’s up--she can sense the urgency in Raven’s actions. Not to mention, her self control is practically non-existent when it comes to Raven. 

“My brush,” Raven shakes her head. “I can’t find it.”

“I think Costia had it this morning,” Octavia’s hopping down from her bunk within seconds, pausing the study the girl for a moment. When she jogs into the bathroom, she immediately finds the brush, sitting on the counter in plain sight. Raven practically walked right past it. She raises an eyebrow, but grabs the “lost” object and holds it up as she re-enters the bunks. “Found it.”

She hands the brush to Raven, who takes it from her hesitantly. The girl just stares down at the object in her hands as if it’s completely foreign to her, blinking a few times. Octavia grows concerned. Even more than before.

“Is that it?” she asks carefully, not used to seeing Raven this nervous. She’s not sure if she’s trying to get the girl to confide in her or scare her away, but before she even has time to figure that out, the brush is being tossed aside, Octavia’s being tugged forward, and Raven’s lips are crashing into her own. 

At first, Octavia’s body practically shifts into autopilot, and she scrambles to grab onto the girl’s shoulders to keep her balance. But then, as her mind catches up with her body, her breath hitches in her throat and she panics, peeling herself off of the girl and looking to her with wide eyes. “Wh-what?” she gasps, coughing and holding her hands out between them, unsure if she wants Raven to back away or come even closer. 

But Raven simply shakes her head, intent on avoiding conversation. “ _ I want you _ ,” she breathes out, eyes dilated, now running on blind courage. She reaches for the girl again, but Octavia’s quick to shake her head, backing up until she runs into the bunk. 

“I am  _ not _ doing this again,” Octavia practically growls, taking Raven by surprise. She curls and uncurls her hands into fists by her sides, subtly trying to stop them from shaking. Her breaths come through her gritted teeth in shallow gasps. “You can’t just come in and  _ use _ me whenever you want, Raven.” 

Confused, Raven just stares at her, mouth agape. “What are you--?”

“I can’t handle you!” Octavia throws her hands down at her sides, everything suddenly spilling forth. Raven flinches at the abrupt change in the girl. “All of this… this… this back and forth!” she motions haphazardly between them. “It’s driving me crazy, Raven!” The girl’s name reverberates around the room until it falls dead silent once more, Octavia’s chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Octavia--,”

“We can’t do this, Raven,” Octavia takes a step forward, her voice gravel in the back of her throat. Raven matches her without thinking, nervously taking a step backward. “You have no clue what you do to me. No clue,” her eyes fall shut for a single moment. “But I can’t keep letting you--,”

“It’s different this time,” Raven stammers out, just as her back hits the wall. Octavia’s inches away from her--their faces impossibly close. Raven forgets how to breathe. 

“ _ Raven-- _ ,”

“Well technically, it wasn’t different last time, either. At least, I still…” Raven beings to ramble, self defense. But when she catches herself, she trails off, falling silent with a weak shake of her head. Something suddenly shifts in the girl, and she slumps back against the wall, a shaky breath escaping her lips--a single question spilling forth from them.

“We’ll never be  _ ‘just friends,’ _ will we?”

Raven’s words come out as a defeated whisper, her eyes desperately searching Octavia’s own. And as suddenly as it had appeared, Octavia’s coldness begins to dissipate. She’s suddenly aware of the lack of space between them. Her eyes dart over to Raven’s face and her jaw trembles, and onslaught of words on the tip of her tongue, aching to fall forward. 

All she can manages is a hesitant  _ “I don’t know.”  _ Her words waver. Raven’s yet to confess to anything and it’s making her feel sick to her stomach. 

“Octavia…” Raven sighs, her eyes falling shut. “I…”

“Just get it over with,” Octavia shakes her head, taking a step backward. She aches to run for the door. But before she can move an inch further, Raven suddenly has an iron grip on her shoulders, and the girl is whipped around, dark brown eyes now boring into her own, so close that Octavia can feel how fast her heart is beating. 

“I was scared, okay?” Raven maintains eye contact, feeling all too vulnerable. “ _ I was scared, _ ” she breathes out. “Of you. Of you and what… what I  _ felt _ … for you.”

“You were drunk,” Octavia deadpans, trying to calm her pounding heart. She’s stiff as stone, standing completely still. She holds a deep breath in her chest. It’s the only thing she can do to keep herself from falling apart.

“On less than half of Miller’s wine cooler,” Raven shakes her head to dismiss the claim. “That wasn't it. It was the last day of summer and we were all so happy and… and you were just so…” she motions weakly to the girl.  _ “You.” _

“ _ Me _ ?”

“You,” Raven nods, swallowing thickly. “Listen, I know I’m supposed to have had some big moment where I realize how I feel about you. But, I mean… I’ve known you forever. And we were only eight years old. I didn’t know. Even then, it was just…  _ you,”  _ her eyes fall shut. “I was intrigued by this little mess of black hair and never quite understood why I always wanted to be around her.”

Breathing shallow, Octavia tilts her head to the side slightly. “What…?” she whispers shakily. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying…” Raven shakes her head, taking a deep breath before confessing. “I’m saying my feelings for you never changed… because they’ve always been there.”

The words hang heavy between them, practically knocking the wind out of Octavia. She’s unable to form a coherent sentence. She just gapes at Raven, eyes searching her own in fear that she’s lying. But Raven doesn’t flinch. She’s already laid everything out on the table. 

“It was innocent… when we were little,” she swallows hard. “I liked everyone. But I liked you… more. And it was different with you. And I guess I’m pretty stupid if it took me this long to figure out why that was.” While Raven lets out a nervous laugh, Octavia still is holding her breath.

“And about what I said before…” she continues. “I didn’t mean that I ‘wanted’ you in  _ that _ sense,” she shakes her head, feeling as if her words are all over the place. “That night… my head was spinning and I mistook sex for love,” her eyes finally leave Octavia’s, falling down to her feet. “But that’s not what I want. Not like that.”

“Then what do you want?” Octavia whispers hesitantly, her mouth slightly open. 

_ “You,  _ goddamn it!” Raven shakes the girl’s shoulders, laughing at her own nervousness. “I didn’t know how to put it into words,” she squeezes her eyes shut and lets go of Octavia, arms falling back to her sides as she leans against the wall. “Just…  _ you _ ,” she weakly motions to the girl.

It’s quiet for too long, and with all the blood pounding in her ears, Raven barely hears the breathy  _ ‘okay’ _ that slips from Octavia’s lips--soft and determined. But when she feels a hand slowly cup her chin, guiding her mouth to Octavia’s own, everything around them seems to fade to black.

This time, when their lips meet, it’s softer. Any ounce of hesitancy in Octavia is gone. Her hands come to wrap around Raven’s shoulders, pulling her even closer as the kiss deepens. Raven practically melts under her embrace.

As soon as Octavia feels Raven’s knee buckle, her leg sore from standing for so long, she pulls away and searches the girl’s eyes carefully. But Raven just pushes off the wall with one hand, pulls Octavia into a kiss with the other, and nudges her over to the bed.

Raven lays back on the mattress first, and Octavia has to duck to avoid hitting her head on the top bunk. She lands practically on top of Raven, catching herself with both hands pressed into the mattress. Their faces hang just inches apart, and Raven gazes up at her in a wide eyed wonder that makes Octavia’s heart pound against her chest as if it’s desperate to break free.

“Why now?” Octavia whispers, catching her breath, finally speaking. “Why today?”

“Costia told me to _ ‘stop being a fucking coward.’ _ ” Raven breathes out, turning on her side when Octavia rolls from atop her and plops down on her back. She rests her chin in her hands and unabashedly lets her eyes train the girl’s face. Noticing this, Octavia’s cheeks flush red and she fights the smile tugging at her lips. And suddenly, if for a moment, everything seems so simple. As if it’s been staring them in the face from the start. 

(To Raven, it feels a lot like waking up for the first time.)

(To Octavia, it’s more like coming up for air.)

“Last time you took advice from Costia, you ended up jumping off a waterfall,” Octavia notes, her eyes curious. But Raven just hums in acknowledgement, hanging her head down so their lips dangle just above the girl’s. 

“Compared to this, that was nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #finally (again)
> 
> there won't be any updates next week because i'll be on vacation buuutttt i hope you enjoy this one :))


	9. Chapter 9

is anyone still reading this??? // should i continue?


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm so sorry i totally dropped this but i was going through my stuff the other day and i forgot how much i loved writing this, so here's a totally random out-of-nowhere chapter for anyone who still may be reading this. enjoy? asdfgghjk

Tugging her flannel tighter around her shoulders, Lexa lets her eyes wander over her surroundings. She’s trying to take Octavia’s advice, she really is, but she’s also taken the long way around camp to buy herself time. She’s conflicted.

Clarke kissed her. And she’d kissed Clarke back. But, what happens now? Her mind is racing—she was up all night, feeling as though she was suffocating. There’s a voice in the back of her head screaming that this is wrong, but it’s started to sound less like her own, and more like a stranger. She’s not sure if that’s a good thing.

She can hear the younger campers in the distance, splashing and squealing down at the lake. It’s still early—some of the girls in her cabin had still been asleep by the time she’d left. She hugs her arms tighter around themselves, rubbing them to keep warm. It’s a gloomy morning—dark and overcast—and the wind rustles the leaves on the trees, picking them up and scattering them around her feet.

Eventually, the main buildings of the camp come into view, and Lexa slows to a stop. A familiar head of blonde hair is perched on the wooden porch swing. Lexa hesitates, her bare feet itching against the dirt pathway. She could run—Clarke hasn’t even noticed her yet. But Octavia’s voice reappears in her head, prompting her to continue on forward.

Clarke lifts her head the moment a shadow falls over the sketchpad in her lap. She holds a hand up to block the sun from her eyes, squinting at Lexa, who stands nervously in front of her, hands clasped together and anxiously toying with the strings on her flannel. Clarke quickly grows fearful that something is wrong.

“You alright?” she asks quietly. Upon hearing her voice, Lexa seems to snap out of a trance, quickly shaking her head and letting her hands fall at her sides. She motions vaguely to the swing before moving to sit down beside Clarke, who quickly scoots over to make room. It’s awkwardly silent between them for a few moments, but when Clarke opens her mouth to speak, Lexa rushes to beat her to it.

“Last night happened, right?” She abruptly turns to look at Clarke, her words coming out in a jumbled mess. “Like—I’m not just making it all up in my head?”

“Lexa--,” Clarke starts, but doesn’t have a chance to get a word in edgewise. Lexa’s still rambling, shaking her hands in front of her to try and make her point.

“Because last night, it seemed real, but then I woke up this morning and I was _convinced_ it was all a dream, and then— _woah.”_

Lexa’s cut off, her eyes widening when she looks down at Clarke’s hand, now laying on top of her own. When she lifts her head, Clarke offers her a shy smile.

“That’s up to you,” Clarke nods once. “It can either be real… or we can just pretend it never happened, if you don’t want it to be,” her voice softens, a silent offer placed between them. Noting Lexa’s hesitancy, she moves to draw her hand away, but suddenly Lexa’s scrambling to grab Clarke’s hand before she can do so.

“It happened,” she breathes out, rushed. “For me—at least,” she pauses for a moment, suddenly becoming aware of their hands, her eyes automatically fluttering down to the girl’s lips. The blood is pounding so hard in her ears that she doesn’t hear the creak of the cabin door, but she quickly catches on when Clarke’s hands tear out of hers, the girl scrambling to the other side of the swing and scaring Lexa half to death.

“What’s up, kiddo?” A man appears. Lexa freezes, her eyes immediately darting to Clarke. He reaches down and ruffles her hair, but Clarke just laughs and motions to her sketchbook.

“Just drawing,” she hums, shrugging softly. Lexa stays quiet, curiously watching the interaction between the two.

“Staying out of trouble?” he chuckles. It’s only then that Lexa realizes he has the same light eyes as Clarke. She glances back and forth between them.

“I’ve gotta run to meet with the counselors, but stop by later tonight, yeah? I’ll be in my office.” He shoots Clarke a smile before jogging down the steps and disappearing around the corner. Lexa’s left to study Clarke inquisitively, but the girl is just sifting through her sketchbook.

“Oh, that’s my dad, by the way,” Clarke adds in passing. However, when she earns no response from Lexa, she glances up to find the girl staring at her, lips pursed in confusion. Clarke raises an eyebrow. “What?”

“Nothing.” Lexa snaps out of her haze, shaking her head. Her cheeks flush pink, which Clarke doesn’t miss.

“You were staring at me,” Clarke notes, a teasing smile on her face.

“No I wasn’t.”

“If you say so.” Clarke eyes her knowingly, but doesn’t press her any further. Instead, she throws a glance in the direction her father disappeared in. Lexa quickly becomes aware of the fact that Clarke has jammed her foot in the doorway to prevent it from closing. When Lexa looks back up, she’s met with a mischievous smile.

“Come on.” Clarke hops to her feet, hurriedly ushering Lexa inside before the girl even has time to think. Lexa slinks back against the door once it swings shut behind them, watching Clarke make her way around the small office, searching through the drawers and sifting through the papers on the large oak desk. Eventually, she finds a ring of keys hidden in one of the drawers and hums in approval.

“Up for an adventure?” she smirks, meeting Lexa’s eyes from across the room. She twirls the keys around her finger. Lexa raises a confused eyebrow.

 

* * *

  

Lexa’s not sure how she ended up in this situation. But somehow, with a bit of prompting from Clarke, they’re in the center of town, loading stacks of firewood into the back of Clarke’s father’s truck.

“What’s that for?” Lexa pauses, wiping her forehead when Clarke slides back into the driver’s side toting a brown paper bag under her arm. But all she gets in return is a mischievous smile. Clarke buries it deep underneath the seat, leaving Lexa to stare at her in confusion.

“There’s a bonfire tonight,” Clarke speaks up once Lexa gives up on getting any answers. The engine roars to life. “You’re coming.”

“I am?” Lexa glances out the window, and then back over to Clarke, eyebrows furrowed together.

“Yep,” Clarke nods in finality. Her mind is already made up. “It’ll be fun.”

“It wasn’t on the schedule,” Lexa hesitates, thinking of the chalkboard at the front of camp, which she studies so intensely at the start of each day.

“It’s more of an impromptu thing,” Clarke shrugs, drumming her fingers on the wheel. “There’s only gonna be a few of us there. Nothing big.”

“Then why do _I_ have to go?”

“Because I want you there,” Clarke doesn’t take her eyes off of the road. “Why wouldn’t you? You got someplace better to be?” Lexa notes the subtle raise of her eyebrow.

“No, no, I just--,” Lexa huffs and shakes her head in frustration, shaking her head in defeat. “I don’t know.”

“I want everyone else to get to know you better,” Clarke glances over to her. There’s a soft smile on her face and Lexa can practically feel her own cheeks turning red. “Besides, you’re stuck with us for the rest of the summer. Might as well make the best of it while you have the chance.” There’s a long pause and Clarke’s face drops slightly, her voice softening. “Where will you go?”

Lexa tilts her head to the side.

“Once summer’s over,” Clarke bows her head slightly. They’re parked back at camp, but neither of them move to get out of the truck. Clarke pulls the keys from the ignition and stares down at them. “You said you’re not going back, but then… where will you go?”

“Good question,” Lexa mumbles, her eyes fixed on her lap. She feels Clarke shift in the seat beside her. “At this point, what I did is practically irreversible. Going back would be suicide.”

“Does it scare you?”

“I’m trying not to think about it.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m gonna break his fucking arm.”

Costia barrels into the bunks, ignoring Octavia and making a beeline for her bag. Octavia jolts up, watching the girl with her eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“Cos?” She swings down from the top bunk and lingers a few feet behind her friend, who’s a loose cannon. She’s ripping her entire bunk apart, obviously searching for something. Costia whips around to face Octavia, throwing her hands down at her sides.

“Where the fuck is my glove?”

“What?”

“My _glove_ ,” Costia shakes her head in frustration and pushes past Octavia, beginning to search through the other bunks. Octavia moves to help her.

“Did you lose it?”

“Hell no,” Costia glares at her. Octavia knows not to take it personally. “That bitch Jeremy did something with it, I know he did.”

“Woah, okay, slow down,” Octavia grabs Costia’s shoulder to calm her down before she winds up flipping the entire bunkbed on its side. “What’s going on?”

“They’re trying to get me off the team so Jeremy can be pitcher,” Costia huffs. “All ‘cause he’s a dude and they like him better than me.”

“That’s because they’re intimidated by you,” Octavia reminds her.

“Oh, I know,” Costia tilts her chin upwards. “Fucking idiots.”

“You could borrow mine, if you were left handed,” Octavia offers, but Costia shakes her head.

“Oh, no, I’m getting mine back. I’m sure of that,” she mutters between gritted teeth. Octavia opens her mouth to say something else, but Costia’s already halfway out the door. Octavia fears for whoever crosses her next.

 

* * *

 

 

“Listen, all Clarke told me was to be here after dinner,” Raven explains, watching as Octavia jumps up to slap a low-hanging tree branch. The girl turns back to look at her, giving Raven a few seconds to catch up.

“If we get murdered, it’s on you,” Octavia teases. Raven just rolls her eyes and keeps walking.

“You’ll survive,” Raven quips back. Octavia smirks.

“I’m scrappy,” she hums, holding up a first and playfully jabbing Raven’s arm. Raven shoves her into a tree.

“Uncalled for,” Octavia scoffs, brushing off her arm. Raven’s already disappeared, though, ducking under the dense brush. Octavia hurries after her. When she pushes her way through and into the small clearing, she can’t help but laugh.

“This could only get cheesier if you’d brought an acoustic guitar,” she teases Clarke, jogging after Raven and joining the girls around the small bonfire. It’s only Clarke, Lexa, and Costia. The original group, plus an extra.

“C’mon,” Clarke rolls her eyes. “Let’s do something fun and cliché for once, without you picking it apart.”

Laughing, Octavia shakes her head and plops on the ground beside Costia. Raven lowers herself down beside them, using Octavia’s shoulder to steady herself.

“Does this help?” Clarke passes Octavia a brown paper bag, which the girls quickly tear into, passing the bottle around the circle.

Nudging Octavia, Costia slips the bottle from her fingers and chugs it until Clarke kicks her foot. Glaring at her, Costia takes one last swig before shoving the bottle back into Octavia’s lap. Octavia and Clarke glance at one another questioningly, which Costia doesn’t notice.

The bottle falls into Lexa’s lap, and her eyes skate around the group nervously. They all watch her cautiously, eyebrows raised in surprise when she takes a swig, wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, and passes the bottle on.

“Slow down,” Clarke teases, bumping Lexa’s shoulder. Lexa’s cheeks flush red, and she ducks her head down to hide it. Clarke kicks another log into the fire.

The night goes well for the most part—they all get buzzed enough to feel light and giggly. Even Lexa. Costia’s the only one who doesn’t seem to be having a good time.

Until the cops show up.

Clarke is the first to notice it—the flashing red and blue lights in the distance. They send their fastest runner, Octavia, to go check it out. Everyone holds their breath while they wait, except for Costia. Her lips curve into a mischievous grin and she hurries after Octavia before any of the girls can stop her.

Octavia bursts back through the woods a few minutes later, breathing heavily and nodding her head. “Cops,” she breathes out, scanning the group in confusion. “Where’s Costia?”

She doesn’t get an answer, though, because Clarke’s already hopping to her feet in a panic. All eyes turn to Lexa, who’s practically frozen in place.

“The Caboose,” Raven is the first to speak up. “She can hide there.”

“I—,” Lexa stammers. “I don’t—,”

“I’ll take her,” Octavia jogs over, swiping the bottle from the ground and handing it to Raven. “Hide this. Put out the fire and get back to camp,” she motions to the rest of them. “And for the love of god, _find Costia.”_

She’s dragging Lexa deeper into the woods before anyone has a chance to argue otherwise. Clarke watches them go, swallowing hard when she hears loud voices coming from the direction of camp.

 

* * *

 

  

“In here,” Octavia grunts, swinging herself up into the abandoned boxcar and holding out a hand to Lexa. They’d ran all the way through the woods to get here, and they both collapse onto the floor of the cart to catch their breath.

“This isn’t good,” Lexa shakes her head, watching as Octavia braces herself against the floor to kick the boxcar door shut. The entire cart shakes when it slams closed, encasing the room in darkness. Lexa moves to the window to peer outside. “This can’t be good.”

“Hey, chill,” Octavia shakes her head. “No one knows where this is, besides a few of us.”

“But it’s the _police_ ,” Lexa balls her hands into fists. “They’ve got to have a search party or something, I--,”

“They’ve got acres and acres of woods to cover,” Octavia slouches down against the wall. “They won’t find us.”

“You don’t know that for sure.”

“Lexa,” Octavia sighs, tired of the endless bickering. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

Lexa’s fingers curl around the small sill of the window and she bits her lip, her teeth grinding together in the back of her mouth. “I’m not going back.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ll go talk to my dad,” Clarke turns to Raven once they finally reach the edge of the camp. “You go find Costia.”

“Go,” Raven breathes out, waiting until Clarke’s disappeared before she steadies herself against a tree and winces in pain. Forcing herself to keep up with Clarke had been a mistake—the nerves in her leg were on fire.

She takes a moment to catch her breath before gritting her teeth and pushing off the tree to find Costia. She’d seen the mischievous look on her friend’s face—it could only mean she was up to no good.

And she was. Raven finds her in their bunk bathroom, nursing a busted lip. She’s covering it with one hand to stop the blood from getting on her clothes, but it’s smeared all over her hand and across her chin. She smiles widely at Raven when she enters, red staining her teeth and pooling in her mouth.

“T’was worth it,” she nods to Raven, spitting a glob of red into the sink and then lifting her head to study herself in the mirror. She chuckles at her own reflection.

“What the fuck did you do?” Raven gapes, standing in the doorway and watching as Costia pokes at her swollen lip, leaning in close to inspect the damage.

“Planted weed in Jeremy’s bunk for the cops to find,” Costia hums, dabbing at her face with a handful of toilet paper. Raven hurries to find her some more. “That’s what he gets for callin’ me a girl.”

“What are you talking about?”

Costia shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter.” She tosses a blood soaked tissue into the trash and accepts the handful Raven passes to her. “He’s in even more trouble after he socked me in front of the cops.” She pauses, thinks for a moment, and then laughs. “I guess that’s where bein’ a chick works to my advantage.”

“Jesus, Cos.” Raven brings a hand to her forehead and groans. “We’re definitely keeping you away from any real alcohol if this is how you are after a couple swigs of red wine.”

“T’was more than a couple.” Costia rolls her eyes and washes her hands, drying them off on her jeans. She finds a cold soda can in the cooler and holds it to her lip, sauntering back into the bunkroom and plopping back on her bed. Her black hair splays out around her. “Hey, where’s ‘tavia?”

“Hiding Lexa,” Raven sits down on the bunk across from Costia’s. “What’s up with the cops?”

“Looking for Lexa,” Costia nods. “You were right t’hide her. They’ve got dogs and everything.”

“Jesus,” Raven breathes out. “This can’t end well.”

 

* * *

 

“Recognize her? Seen her around anywhere?”

There’s a photo shoved in Clarke’s face as soon as she gets to the middle of camp. Of course she does—it’s Lexa—but she hides her worry as best as she can and shakes her head. She slides past the cops to get to her dad.

“What’s going on?” she asks, grabbing his arm.

“They think some missing girl might’ve passes through here,” he shrugs, pulling them aside as a cop walks past with a large German Shepherd. “Someone spotted her out in town this morning.”

Clarke silently curses herself. “Did you recognize the picture?” she asks tentatively. He’d seen Lexa this morning on the porch swing, but Clarke wasn’t sure he’d been paying her much attention.

“Nope,” he shakes his head, glancing to his daughter. “They’ll be outta’ here soon enough,” he ruffles her hair, sensing her worry. Clarke can only nod slowly.

 

* * *

 

“Did you hear that?”

“For the _millionth_ time, Lexa, there’s nothing out th—,”

Octavia’s cut off when Lexa hisses at her to be quiet. It’s then that she does hear it—though she hadn’t before. There’s the soft murmur of voices in the distance. They both scramble to their feet to peer out the window.

“ _Shit_ ,” Octavia hisses. They can just make out the white light of flashlights, skating across the brush at the edge of the clearing.

Lexa panics. “What do we do? This is the first place they’ll look, I can’t—,”

“Down,” Octavia yanks her away from the window just as a light is pointed in their direction. Lexa watches with wide eyes as the girl kicks through a loose floorboard. It splinters off in a loud crack and thunks onto the ground beneath them. They both freeze, holding their breath and hoping they hadn’t been heard.

“Go, go,” Octavia pushes Lexa forward. The girl squeezes her way through the small opening, snagging the sleeve of her shirt and scraping her leg on the way down. Octavia’s quick to follow, and they listen for a moment. The voices are clearer now—there’s no time to waste.

“Stay down,” Octavia instructs her, taking the lead. They slip out from under the boxcar and scatter into the thick of the woods. Neither dare to make a sound until they deem they’ve gotten far enough away.

“They’re definitely looking for me,” Lexa breathes out, struggling to catch her breath. “This is bad. This is so bad.”

“Don’t panic,” Octavia warns her with a shake of the head, surveying their surroundings. “Stay alert. We don’t wanna run into anyone out here.”

“Where are we going?” Lexa hisses, scrambling after Octavia. She doesn’t get an answer, though, so all Lexa can do is hurry aimlessly after the girl.

“Just trust me,” Octavia speaks up as soon as they reach the edge of the woods. They’re back at camp, Lexa realizes, peering over Octavia’s shoulder. She quickly stumbles a few steps backwards and holds up her hands.

“Don’t,” Octavia hisses, cutting off Lexa before she can even speak. She grabs the girl’s wrist and tugs her forwards. “I know a spot they’ll never check,” she reassures her, glancing back toward camp before nodding to herself. “Take off your shoes.”

Stunned, Lexa doesn’t argue, because Octavia sounds serious enough. As soon as her shoes are off, Octavia pushes them through the brush and out into the open. She holds a finger to her lips and locks eyes with Lexa.

“Under there,” Octavia points to the dock. Lexa stiffens. “We’ve just got to swim out and dive under.”

And so they do, because they really don’t have any other choice. They reemerge under the dock with their wet clothes heavy and sticking to their skin. Octavia wrings out her hair and shakes herself off like a wet dog. Lexa scoots back on the ground and hugs her knees to her chest, shivering in the cold night air.

“What are they even after you for?” Octavia asks, realizing she has no clue why they’ve all banded together to keep Lexa so hidden.

“Ran away,” Lexa mutters, resting her chin on her knees. Octavia glances to her, but Lexa refuses to tell her any more. She picks of a stick and scratches aimless circles in the mud beneath them. The voices in the distance grow quieter as the night goes on.

 

* * *

  

“Thank god,” Clarke is the first one who jumps up when Octavia and Lexa finally slip into the bunks. Lexa holds out her hands to stop the girl from hugging her, and it’s only then that Clarke realizes they’re both sopping wet.

“I thought you were at the caboose?” Clarke asks, tilting her head to the side.

“Plans changed,” Octavia mumbles, slipping past them and digging through her duffel bag. Raven watches her from her bunk, shooting the girl a sad smile when their eyes finally meet. She perches herself on the bathroom counter while Octavia showers, long after Lexa has fallen asleep and Clarke has returned to her bunk.

“Where’s Costia?” Octavia speaks up, pausing and waiting for a sign that Raven’s still out there.

“Asleep,” Raven nods. “Got herself in some trouble.”

“Of course,” Octavia laughs under her breath. “What is it this time?”

“Antagonized Jeremy.”

“Of course,” Octavia repeats herself, louder this time.

“Got a busted lip to prove it.”

“Shit,” Octavia shakes her head. “She okay?”

“Yeah,” Raven clears her throat, passing Octavia her towel once the water squeaks off and the girl’s hand sticks out from behind the curtain. Raven hops down from the counter as the girl emerges from the shower, wringing out her wet hair.

“ _You_ okay?” Octavia turns to her. Raven nods, passing Octavia her hairbrush.

“Your leg?”

Raven nods again.

Octavia sucks her lips into her mouth and looks the girl up and down. “Thought so.”

“I just need to rest,” Raven shrugs, earning a nod in agreement from Octavia. “Long day.”

“They go sleep,” Octavia laughs softly and bumps her friend’s shoulder. “I’ll be done soon. Don’t wait up for me.”

Raven nods softly, pushing off the counter and giving herself a second to readjust her weight onto her leg. Octavia knows it embarrasses her, so she keeps quiet, but reaches out to squeeze the girl’s hand reassuringly. When their eyes meet, Raven offers her a sad smile. “Night.”

“Night,” Octavia whispers, watching as Raven half-limps back into the bunks. Octavia only looks away once she’s out of sight, letting out a deep breath and shaking her head.

They both know Raven’s faking sleep when Octavia crawls into her bunk later that night, curling up in the small space between the bed and the wall. Neither of them say anything, though. Neither of them minds.


End file.
